Victoria's Decision
by KarenZ
Summary: Fam Channel Zorro: Victoria decides to figure out just who Zorro is, but another decision awaits her. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This story appeared on a friend's website years ago. This is a revised version. Most of the changes are just repairing errors but there are a few other differences as well.

Victoria's Decision

Chapter 1

It had been a long day. Victoria sighed deeply as she shut the door on the final customer of the night. For once, there were no guests in residence at the tavern. So tonight, she was totally alone in the large building.

She took a slow look around the room. Her girls had done their jobs well tonight. Everything looked in order. She had merely to douse the kitchen fire and put up the few dishes that remained, and she could call it an early night for a change.

As she leisurely finished the few remaining tasks, her thoughts returned, as they so often did in quiet moments, to a certain masked man. How she wished he would come to her tonight! It would be a wonderful night for a midnight tryst. Just a few minutes alone with him would put a perfect end to her day. It was maddening that she never knew when he would come to see her. There was really no way to even get a message to him when she longed to see him. She was totally reliant on his timing.

Yes, he was a maddening man. That was indeed the word to use. Sometimes, she wished she had never given her heart to such a man. How much easier it would be to fall in love with a farmer! She laughed out loud. He certainly was no farmer. No, whoever Zorro was, he was a man of substance. She was sure of that much.

As she ascended the stairs, she rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. Her muscles ached, and she would welcome her bed tonight. She opened her door and placed the candle on the dressing table.

No Zorro graced the room. She had so hoped.

Heaving a large sigh, she turned down the bed covers. Taking her dressing gown from the drawer, she placed it on the bed and crossed back to the table to begin the nightly ritual of brushing her hair. Did a hundred strokes really help? But it was something her mother had taught her so she still made the effort.

She stared at the face in the mirror questioningly. It was still a young face. No wrinkles yet. But it was a face of a woman in stasis. She was so tired of waiting, waiting on a day that might never happen. Zorro had proposed. She had said yes. But the waiting had only just begun.

The Alcalde and the government of Los Angeles were both as corrupt as ever. Zorro battled bravely and always won, but was he really making any headway in turning the tide of the future? Would there ever be a time when he wouldn't be needed by the many so that he could devote his time to her? It was depressing. Sometimes she just wanted to be held.

Tonight, she wanted to be held desperately.

The slight sound at the window roused her out of her thoughts and she was unlatching the lock within seconds. He was here!

"Victoria." His soft voice breathed her name with a note of reverence. She was enveloped in his embrace, an embrace of black silk, and received the kiss from his lips that was as inviting as velvet. Now she was complete, but only for as long as he was with her.

"I was hoping you would come." Her smile lit up the semidarkness of the room in a way nothing else could for him. "I've missed you so."

"I have something for you." He handed her a small box tied with a pretty yellow ribbon. "Happy Birthday. I know it isn't for two more days, but—"

"You know when my birthday is?" She was surprised. He had never given her a birthday present before this, and the thought that he had gone to the trouble to discover the date of her birth gave her a sudden thrill.

"Yes, of course. I know far more about you than you could possibly guess." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. The gesture stirred something inside of her. It was not the kiss of a lover, but the kiss of a dear friend. She shook her head to shake the strange, negative feeling it gave her. That was not the relationship she wanted from this man.

She impulsively threw her arms around his neck and began kissing him passionately. And he submitted to her will. He returned her kisses with a growing impatience for the next several minutes. His hands roamed from her waist. His tongue searched the depths of her mouth. She felt his growing response to her closeness and gave him every physical assurance she could of her willingness to be his completely. But when all control seemed loss, he found steadfastness within himself to stop. He gently, but firmly, drew apart from her.

"Aren't you going to open your present?" His whispered question was heavy with his own labored breathing. She watched his eyes intently. He smiled and both held a silent conversation that said volumes in just those few seconds. They would wait. They both knew it was the right thing to do. But it was so very difficult.

She looked down at the small box and began pulling off the yellow ribbon. "What on earth could it be?" Her voice shook slightly at the effort to speak, and her hands were shaking as she removed the top of the box. He heard her quick intake of breath as she saw the brilliant gleam of silver.

The necklace was beautiful. She withdrew it from its red velvet lined box and saw that it held a pendant of an emerald surrounded by tiny diamonds. It would match the ring he had given her beautifully.

"Was this your mother's too?" she asked.

"No. This was made especially for you. I had it ordered from Spain. But, it was done by the same jeweler as the ring. They should look very nice together," the corners of his smile suddenly turned down as he added, "someday."

She realized her mouth had fallen open and sought to regain her composure. "I don't know what to say. It's so beautiful! I…I love it! Oh… thank you!" Then she kissed him again with the excitement of a child at Christmas. "Does this mean I can actually wear this…I mean… wear this... now?"

As he took the chain from her hands and began fastening it around her neck, he said, "Yes, you may wear it and think of me." She was in his arms once more, thanking him in a very improper way. "Oh, Querida, I hope it will not be so very long until you may wear the ring as well. I cannot help but think the end to the oppression of this pueblo will come about soon. If I did not have that hope…"

"'Hope springs eternal'?" She seized on the quote. She had only just read that somewhere.

"Yes," he said and smiled down at her. "'Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest.' We must hope the blessing will come soon. This waiting is no easier for me, I assure you."

Their time together was brief. She memorized every word that he said, every gesture he made. She knew she loved him. She knew his motives for existence were real and true. But she knew very little else about this man she had given her heart to so completely.

When he left her, less than an hour later, she still glowed from his touch. Changing into her nightdress, she hummed to herself all the while. She was still riding a wave of ecstasy from her encounter with him, and she lay in bed for a long time going over every minute of the visit. The serene smile never left her face even as she drifted off into a dream of her masked lover.

In her dream, she reached for the mask and pulled it from his face. But the blank flesh underneath turned her dream into a dreadful nightmare. The face contorted and laughed at her and turned into all manners of evil. She tossed and turned well into the morning and when the knock on her door finally awoke her from the fitful sleep, she was grateful that it had all been just a dream.

Victoria had a difficult time that morning shaking off her nightmare. She dared not purge her system of it by telling anyone about it, so she was left with the nagging memory of that awful, faceless face cropping up in her mind every few minutes.

"This is ridiculous!" She said the words aloud in front of a table of customers before she caught herself. "I'm sorry. I seem to have forgotten something. I'll have Maria bring it for you." She smiled sweetly and headed for the kitchen.

Once there, she hurried about, finishing up the cooking for the noonday meal. When Maria entered, she was already pulling off her apron. "Maria, I am not feeling too well. Do you think you can manage without me for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Si, Señorita. I can manage. Why don't you go lie down? You look like you could use some rest."

At least she could leave the running of the tavern in Maria's competent hands for long periods. Maria had been quite a find. She was a hard worker, very honest and had the sweetest disposition one could ever hope to find in an employee. It wouldn't be too long before some dashing young vaquero would come and take her away though. It always happened to the young girls she hired.

"Yes, I think I will."

Victoria climbed the stairs to her room. But instead of lying down as she had intended, she crossed to the small desk she used to keep the records for the tavern. She drew out a quill pen, the bottle of ink, and a large sheet of paper and sat down, ready to go to work in a different way.

"Victoria, you are a smart lady." She spoke the words aloud trying to prepare herself for what she had planned. "You've heard that often enough. So, why don't you prove it? This is a puzzle, nothing more than that. It's just a puzzle. And puzzles always have solutions."

She wrote the name "Zorro" at the top of the sheet and sat back in the chair to think. Just what did she know about the man?

He was tall. She would start with that.

She wrote the word "tall" down and to the left of her title.

He had impeccable manners. She added the word "caballero" just below that and then, as an afterthought, put a question mark beside the word.

Continuing in the same vein for the next hour or so, she kept at it until her page held more words and phrases than blank space. She had come up with quite a description of the man who held her heart. As she scanned the words, her heart swelled with the love she felt so naturally for such a man: strong, skilled swordsman, expert horseman, excellent marksman, well educated, wealthy (certainly not poor!), scientific knowledge, Catholic, has a family (but not a wife!). She continued writing until her sheet was filled.

She reached for a second sheet of paper and at the top wrote "caballeros". This would take some thought.

Mentally picturing the layout of Los Angeles and the surrounding areas with the many haciendas located there, she thought of the occupants of each and wrote down the names of all the men, fathers and sons alike.

Before the next hour was up, she had 72 names on the list. Her eyes skimmed the list from the top and she laughed out loud at the thought of some of these men being a candidate for Zorro! When she caught sight of one name, Don Hector, she immediately picked up the quill and crossed out the name. Don Hector weighed all of 300 pounds and was no taller than she. He was definitely NOT Zorro! She continued down the list with a critical eye, looking for physical dissimilarities and marked the names off as she eliminated her "suspects."

There were still at least 30 names of men that were within the right age range and at least close to the body-build of her subject. So she needed to find another limiting factor to examine.

She looked back at her description. Dark hair was not that much help. It could be altered. She had seen them do that in the theatrical troupes that had come through town. But blue eyes! That was one feature that would be impossible to hide. Zorro's eyes were a deep blue. One would have to get close to really tell they were blue.

That was a problem. She hadn't been very close to many of the men on this list, at least, not often enough to notice the color of their eyes. A Spaniard with blue eyes, while somewhat unusual, was really not all that rare. Why, even Diego had blue eyes. She was just going to have to be more observant as these men came into the tavern in the future. She would have to keep her list handy, and mark them off as she eliminated them from the running by eye color.

She rubbed her own eyes and realized she now had quite a headache. The bed looked more inviting than ever, so she put down her quill and papers and laid down to rest her eyes just for a bit.

It was a good start. This was the way to go about a quest. She was sure of it. And if she found her Zorro without his mask, she would…

What would she do? She hadn't thought of that. All of this might just make him angry. She would have to be careful.

She got up and hid the papers in her bedside stand and felt better. There. This was to be her secret quest. She would not tell anyone else. She then went back to bed and dreamed about her masked man with the deep blue eyes that stared down into her very soul.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The next day held a new bit of excitement as she looked anew at all of her customers, searching for any clues that could eliminate more names from her list. When Don Hector appeared in the doorway, she all but doubled over in laughter. It was hard to explain to Diego and his father what she found so amusing.

"Do you get the impression we've missed out on something?" Don Alejandro asked his son when Victoria left to attend to her other arriving customers.

"Victoria does seem to have a merry twinkle in her eyes this morning." Diego had already noticed that she was wearing the necklace even though the pendent was not on it. Perhaps it was a bit too ostentatious for everyday wear in a tavern.

As accustomed as Diego was to watching Victoria slyly, so as not to arouse anybody's interest, today he found it difficult not to stare outright. What was she doing?

His father took his leave to go conduct his business with the blacksmith and Diego settled down at a table in a back corner. Here, he could watch without being noticed. It only took two glasses of orange juice and about a half an hour for him to figure out just exactly what she was up to as she went from table to table talking to and questioning all the male customers.

He smiled to himself as he set his own agenda. Running a slender finger along his mustache, he was lost deeply in thought when Victoria joined him at his table.

"Diego, I didn't know you were still here. You're being awfully quiet. Just what are you up to today?" she asked pleasantly.

"Just being a bit lazy, I suppose. I need to be on my way though. The wagon is loaded down with some blankets and other things I am taking to the Indian village on the west ridge this afternoon."

"Padre Benito told me last week about that village. They have had a tough time of it lately. Perhaps I could go with you. Can you wait a little longer? I could fix up some baskets of foodstuffs. Is there more room on your wagon?"

"Yes, of course. And I would love the company." Her offer wasn't really that surprising. Victoria was generous to a fault. It was one of the many qualities he loved about her.

Before long, the wagon was indeed more loaded down with baskets of food and supplies.

"It's a perfect day for the drive," Victoria commented. The sky was blue with a scattering of white puffy clouds rolling leisurely across its expanse. The small brook that ran beside the trail gave them a soft bubbling background to their friendly chatter. They caught up on each other's news as the wheels rolled along toward the village.

"Did you hear that Miguel Ramirez wants to start courting Maria? She's excited about it, but he hasn't even said a word to her yet. He's going to make sure her father approves first. Isn't that sweet?"

"Very sweet." He looked skyward and laughed.

"Oh, Diego, you are impossible. She's young and he's a good match for her. What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, and is that what you were doing today in the tavern? Setting up this match for Maria? I saw you today!"

"Saw me doing what?" she asked nervously. "I was just serving my customers!"

"You were interrogating your customers! And I think I can guess what it is you are doing. You, Señorita, are compiling a suspect list!" He laughed heartily. "Maybe you should get Sergeant Mendoza to help you. I am sure he has had some training in detective work. And after all, you are trying to find the same man, are you not? You are trying to discover who Zorro is!"

"Oh, Diego, when you say it like that, it sounds so —"

"So silly?" He was wiping the tears from his face now, he was laughing so hard. "All right, Victoria, I am sorry. I should not have teased you like that." He fought hard to regain his composure. "But you have to admit, that after all this time—"

"You don't think I can do it, do you?" Oh, he was beginning to make her angry now. "I think I know Zorro just a little better than you do. And if I put my mind to it, I will figure out just who he is!"

"But do you think Zorro would want you to? He seems to think it is necessary to protect you and everybody by not letting them know who he is. He may not take kindly to your setting out to expose him."

"I wouldn't expose him!" She was shocked at Diego for thinking her capable of that. "I just want him to know —"

"To know what?" Diego's voice was full of kindness now.

"I want him to know that I am intelligent enough to figure it out, and trustworthy enough to be trusted with his secret. That's all. Is that so terrible?"

"No, Victoria, of course not." He switched over the reins to one hand so he could put his other arm around her. "And I am sure Zorro knows as well as I do how intelligent you are. There is no need to convince him of that." He gave her a one-armed brotherly hug, but he could feel her resistance to the comforting gesture. So he searched for a safer subject. Victoria was far too emotionally involved with this. He hadn't really thought she was that serious about this little investigation of hers. "Did I tell you Felipe is now wanting to study to be a lawyer?"

"A lawyer? Felipe?"

"Yes, it is what he says he wants to do. He has a fine mind. I am sure he will do well at anything he tries. I have to assume he would gravitate more towards the research aspect of the profession. His lack of speech wouldn't hurt him there."

"And lack of hearing!"

"Oh, yes, that too."

"Where will he go for his schooling?"

"He has not decided yet. I am hoping he will choose to go to a school here. If he really wants to study law, studying in Madrid would not help him with the law here. Father is no more anxious than I am for him to go that far anyway. I sometimes wonder that Father ever permitted me to go. It takes such a chunk out of one's life. But, in my case, I am very glad he did. I learned so much in Madrid."

"And changed so much."

"Did I?" He looked at her, partly hoping she would continue.

"You know you did. I sometimes…" She stopped. It would do Diego no good to hear that she sometimes cursed the changes Madrid had made in him.

He had left as a boy, with the promise of becoming a great man. Yet he had returned a disappointing failure in her mind. Oh yes, he was still kind and sweet. And he was even more handsome than when he had left. But the change was there. Now she saw him wasting much of his life on idleness. He read, painted, played the piano and he took a major role in the philanthropic efforts the de la Vega's had always made. But so much of the time, he just seemed so lazy, so content to just stand around and let things happen. If only he still had that spark that she had seen inside him as a boy. That boy could do anything. And usually would.

She smiled at the picture of the Diego of their childhood. A boy that had lost his mother too soon. He had always been sensitive to the needs of others before that had happened. But afterwards, he had become almost obsessive in that area. He had championed any child who was targeted by a bully. Whenever another child was being cruelly teased, he offered comfort and aid. He had wiped many a tear from her own eyes. At least that part of the child was still present in the man. He was still a sensitive, caring human being.

She realized she had been quiet too long and reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Diego, you're such a good friend. I've always been grateful for that."

He smiled with his lips, but if she had looked closely at his eyes, she would have seen the hurt. And as usual, whenever something hurt, he changed the subject. "You know, the Indians think of this space between the brook and that ridge as a sacred place. I tried to learn how to pronounce the name once, but I could never wrap my tongue around the word in the right way. Their language is somewhat tricky. I am glad they are not as intimidated by Spanish."

"The extent of your knowledge overwhelms me sometimes, Diego. You must spend every spare moment with your head in your books. Is there any subject you don't know something about?"

"Countless ones, I am sure," he chuckled. "But I didn't learn that from a book. You know, you may not know me as well as you think you do, Señorita Escalante! Ah, here we are." Diego said it all with the same imperturbable smile, but Victoria wondered why her comment had ruffled his feathers so.

He had been in a rather strange mood the entire afternoon, but she couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with the man. Sometimes he could be so maddening.

She smiled at her mental use of the word to describe Diego. It was the same word she had used to describe Zorro. Maybe she attracted that kind of man!

When the wagon pulled up at the Indian settlement, she jumped down from the wagon seat before he could even offer her his hand.

They were greeted by several of the women and most of the children. The wagon was emptied of its bounty in minutes, and the two young people were whisked over to the fire to share in the scanty meal the Indians had prepared. They nibbled at the unfamiliar fare and did a lot of smiling at the unintelligible conversation going on all around them.

Most of the Indians in this tribe spoke very little besides their own native language. Several of the men arrived later and spoke in a mixture of words and signs to Diego for a few minutes. Before long, the two were on their way back to the pueblo.

The trip had taken a little longer than Diego had anticipated, and he didn't want to be benighted on the way back. He would have to drive the horses a little harder than he liked to make it back home by dark.

"What were those men saying to you back there?" she asked as she pulled her light shawl more snugly around her shoulders. The wind had developed a slight chill to it and the clouds were edging out what little was left of the fading sunlight.

"The older one was telling me that we're in for a change of weather. He thinks a great storm is coming." Diego scanned the clouds. "From the looks of it, I fear he's right. Hopefully, we'll make it back in time though." He smiled to himself and thought, "Well, young lady, you've been looking for clues all day, I think I'll hand you one!" And aloud, he quoted,

"Lo, the poor Indian! Whose untutor'd mind

Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;

His soul proud Science never taught to stray

Far as the solar walk or milky way;

Yet simple nature to his hope has giv'n,

Behind the cloud-topp'd hill, an humbler heav'n."

"That's beautiful! It sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it."

"Alexander Pope. One of his famous essays, I believe. But I do think it errs on the side of the Indians and science. Some of the methods they use to determine weather are in reality a part of science." He nodded toward the western sky. "Those clouds look a lot darker now than when we left. I'm not sure we're going to make it back before this storm hits after all. There is a cave not to far ahead in one of those overhangs. If we can make it, we can wait the storm out there. At least it would be dry."

The wind was becoming increasingly more intense by the minute. There was still no rain, but the thunder claps and lightening flashes in the background were terrifying the horses and it was all Diego could do to keep them on the road. He urged them on faster.

If it had been much darker, he would have missed the cave entrance altogether. It was partly hidden by a rocky overhang and some overgrowth of bushes.

Diego guided the wagon just past the entrance and climbed down. He quickly helped Victoria down and helped her climb up the few feet to the cave entrance before unhitching the horses and leading them beneath an outcropping of rock where they would have some protection. The rain had begun and by the time he returned, he found Victoria sitting inside the cave, shivering.

"Here!" He had retrieved two blankets from underneath the wagon seat and put them both around her shoulders. They were thin but reasonably dry. Diego, however, was anything but dry, and he peeled off his rain-soaked jacket.

"I didn't know it could get so cold so quickly." She had expected him to sit with her and huddle together for some warmth, but Diego seemed invigorated by the storm. He was oblivious to the cold as he returned to stand, framed, by the cave entrance. The roof of the cave was tall enough that he stood upright, his hands outstretched gripping the rock edges as if trying to restrain himself from escaping back into the exciting surge of the storm.

"I think the Indians were right about this one. This is a tremendous storm. Those clouds look awfully dark and low. It might even spawn a tornado."

_Tornado!_ The word cut through the darkening cave like a knife thrown at her. His inflection of the word was as familiar as that used when Zorro said her own name. It was a word she and many others had heard often from the mouth of Zorro.

But she now saw only Diego before her, standing tall, his clothes drenched and clinging to his body. An accomplished artist could not have accentuated the lines of those hard muscles as well as the wetness of the cloth was doing. His body was taunt, for he was excited by the storm. As the light began to fail, he became silhouetted in black, a fine figure of a man watching the churning sky. Her heart leaped to her throat as recognition dawned in her eyes and ears at the same time. The one clear thought that kept going over and over in her mind like a repeating pennywhistle was "_Diego has blue eyes_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Diego has blue eyes. She had dismissed the fact so easily before, but it was an all- encompassing thought now. Her head was ringing with the roar of the thunder. The lightning flashes were getting closer and she finally could stand it no longer.

"Diego, please! Come back here with me. That lightning! It's so close. It might —"

"What!" He stopped scanning the heavens and turned, surprised to see the concern on her face. "I think we are perfectly safe in here." She looked extremely agitated. He sat down beside her on the rocks. The cave was in deep shadow now. He could only just see the outline of her features, but he could see her face was mobile with thought. He had never known her to be so frightened by a storm. But she seemed near tears right now.

"Victoria, are you all right?" He held her close, whispering to her soothing endearments. She was as emotional as a child. He would have to remember this, although he would never have thought that this fiery, brave woman who had stood up to so many threats would be afraid of a few claps of thunder. One never knew from where fears grew. Perhaps she had been frightened by a storm as a child.

But Victoria's thoughts were not those of a child. She was a woman in the arms of the man she loved, a woman who had just learned his greatest secret, and didn't know what she was going to do about it. She did know that she was going to keep him close to her for as long as she could that night. Now, she was the one with the secret and she was going to enjoy having the upper hand for awhile.

Their bodies warmed each other and eventually the myriad of noises outside the cave wove into a tapestry of sounds that lulled the two into deep sleep. The two lovers, entwined as friends, slept the hours of the pounding storm away in the safety of the cave.

Towards the light of morning, Diego awoke. But he did not move away from her. He merely shifted his body to a more comfortable position to allow the sleeping girl a few more minutes of restful sleep. He watched her as the light edged in closer from the cave entrance. He spent most of those minutes just wishing that time would pass more slowly. For right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

There was just one pressing problem. He was fighting the urge to sneeze.

The nagging tickling in his nose grew so great that finally he could contain it no longer. At the sound of his sneeze, Victoria jerked awake. She was momentarily startled to find herself wrapped in Diego's arms. Then the night's happenings came back to her and her thoughts leapt to the newfound knowledge that Diego was…

Diego was now coughing and sneezing uncontrollably.

"Pardon me, Victoria…." he managed to gasp out between sneezes and coughs. "I seem to have caught a cold" He had found his handkerchief but the dampness seeping through from his clothes was chilling.

"Oh, Diego, you fell asleep in those wet clothes. I never even thought about it. I should have made you take them off."

"That, my dear, would not have been too good of an idea either, I'm afraid. We've already strained the bounds of decency by staying here together last night."

"Nonsense, we had no choice. It's just a lucky thing you knew about this place."

Diego sneezed again. He looked so comical. His clothes were damp and wrinkled. His hair was a mess, and the sneezes and coughs just added a final touch that sent Victoria into peals of laughter.

"I fail … (cough)… to see… (sneeze).. the humor of the situation."

"Oh, Diego." She smiled at him sweetly. But her thoughts were in a jumble. Last night, she had thought him to be Zorro. Now she looked at him in the cold light of morning and wondered just how in the world she had come to that decision. The man before her was simply Diego, a wonderful, kind, sweet man, but he could not be Zorro. Diego sneezed loudly once again, driving the thought home in her mind.

They brushed off their clothes and gathered the few things they had brought into the cave and made their way outside. The storm had abated, but the low hanging clouds still threatened more rain, and rumblings of thunder could still be heard off in the distance. A stiff wind blew coldly from the north. The rough weather wasn't through with them yet.

He helped her with her footing to the mouth of the cave. There, they looked down to the road just below and gasped as they saw the small stream beside it. For the small stream was now a raging river. The water surged down the banks carrying logs and debris and ate away at the road's edge every few feet.

"I think we have been lucky. If that water had become another foot deeper, this cave would not have been safe last night. The rains further north must have been even greater than those here. We had better start for home now, before it washes out the road entirely. As it is, we will have to drive to this side of it."

Diego helped her down the rocks and found the horses. The small rock canopy had sheltered them well through the night. But the wagon itself had not been so lucky. Diego found it, or rather parts of it, washed down the trailside, smashed against some rocks.

"I am afraid we will be on horseback today. The wagon is gone. We will make do. Don't worry." He smiled at her reassuringly. "I know you have ridden bareback before. It has just been awhile!"

He set about to rework the tack into something workable for their ride back. They used the blankets as makeshift saddles and, before long, they were on their way. The ride back to the hacienda was a long one.

The damage from the storm was excessive. Trees had been uprooted. Bricks, timbers and quite a few small dead animals littered the roadway. Boulders had tumbled from the rocky cliffs. At times, familiar landmarks were hard to find, having been washed away by either the wind or the water.

Diego rode ahead trying to pick out the best parts of the remaining trail. He found it necessary to keep a keen eye on Victoria's horse because she seemed so distracted. The storm and its effects seemed to have totally unnerved her.

It was all Victoria could do to keep her mind on the task of guiding her horse through the maze of debris. Her thoughts were centering on her discovery. She watched Diego more than she watched the trail. Her idea that he was Zorro had seemed so plausible the night before. Now she was unsure. She would just have to watch him carefully.

Several times Diego had to turn back to help her horse navigate the way through tight spaces. Once, it seemed a long detour might be necessary. The path had been blocked by a huge log. But Victoria watched in amazement as Diego went about getting it moved out of the way. Why had she never noticed how strong Diego was before now?

"These bricks must have been blown here from quite a distance." He looked at Victoria as they both wondered how the pueblo had fared through the storm. Fearing for the worst, they tried to spur the horses onward even faster. But the going was slow. Several times the water prevented them from taking the most direct route. The trip that would normally only take two hours had today taken them seven. It was almost dusk when they drew near to the boundaries of the de la Vega lands.

When they were in sight of the hacienda several vaqueros, who had been out searching for the young caballero, waved them on, clearly glad to see him coming home at last. Don Alejandro was at the door, the relief on his face boldly evident.

"Diego, I have never been so worried in all my life. Victoria, are you all right? I would have been even more frantic if I had known you were with Diego."

"Si, Don Alejandro. I am fine. But sore and tired."

"Father, have you heard how Los Angeles came through this?"

"There's some damage to quite a few buildings, but so far, no one is reported to have been hurt. The tavern was unharmed, my dear. But I'm afraid several of the peons lost some roofs and the church lost a wall. We'll have to organize some workforces to help them recover from this. But, for now, you two looked chilled to the bone. Victoria, you will stay here tonight, of course." Alejandro turned to a servant girl nearby and gave his orders.

"Lupita will see that everything is prepared for both of you. And you, Diego, seem to be coming down with your death of a cold. I want you two out of those damp clothes, bathed and into a nice warm bed. I'll see that Maria warms your beds with some hot bricks while you both bathe. Did you see the tornado?"

Victoria had been taken aback by all the fatherly concern. Now she was amused to find the same excitement about the storm that Diego had displayed now evident in his father's question. It sounded like he was jealous that he had not been the one to see it in the wild.

"We never actually saw it, but it must have been very close. That small stream that hugs the road to the ridge is now a veritable river today. You would not believe the change." Diego and his father followed Victoria into the hacienda, both of them completely lost in descriptions of the night's tumultuous weather.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Soon, she was being treated like royalty or, at least, like her idea of what royalty would be treated like. The bathroom to which she was led was like no other she had ever seen. And actually, she had only seen one other in her life. Rooms solely dedicated to the act of bathing were indeed a luxury in themselves. But this! This was beyond anything she had ever imagined. The tiles on the floor, the footed bathtub itself, and the soft, thick towels the size of sheets amazed her. She felt like a princess.

She had never really thought much about the rest of the de la Vega home before now. She had been a guest for dinner on many occasions, but she had never even been in this part of the hacienda. She began to wonder now just how rich the de la Vegas were. This room was more elaborately decorated than she would have ever thought them capable of managing in a place like the small pueblo of Los Angeles. It was somewhat mystifying. It was also very feminine.

There were three doors leading from the room. The one she had entered led from the hallway. One other was the one Lupita had used to bring in the hot water. And the third?

She reluctantly stood up and dried herself, savoring every minute of this experience. But now, she wanted to know just where that door led. A light blue, and very expensive looking, robe had been laid out for her on the table nearby and she drew it around her, marveling at its softness. A woman's robe. And just whose…?

Of course! This was Doña de la Vega's robe and probably her private bath. Diego's mother would have had something this fine. The thought saddened Victoria. From all she had heard and the little she remembered of Diego's mother, she knew her to be a very kind and generous lady. A lady worthy of such wealth and comfort. Victoria looked down at the elegant material of the robe and touched it reverently. As she did so, her rough hands caught on the material.

She looked at her own hands. These were the hands of a working girl. Just like those of her own mother. These hands had cooked and cleaned all week long. They had laundered and mended sheets, and repaired broken table legs. They were not the hands of a lady. Victoria sank into the chair beside the table in total despair.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she took another look around the room. No, this would never be a place where she belonged, for she was not a lady, and she couldn't change that. There was nothing that could change that. It was simply a fact. And she had better start facing that fact right now.

The idea that Diego could actually be Zorro took on new meaning. Zorro was classless. He would never care about a difference in their stations. But somewhere, he lived a private life. And if she were right, and he was indeed a caballero, then there existed a great gulf between them that she had never properly considered. Diego and his father had always treated her with the utmost respect. They were that way with everyone. But their sense of propriety was great. Marriage would be quite another story from friendship. She had believed Diego to be rather sweet on her for years now. But, in all that time, he had never really said anything or done anything that she could ever have taken as a romantic overture. What if the reason for that was not just a case of shyness? What if it was a matter of breeding?

Even if Diego had been entertaining thoughts that it would be possible…Well, he hadn't thought it through. His father was of the old school. He would never permit his only son to marry anyone but a Spanish lady. A _wellborn _Spanish lady. "And that is just something I am not." Victoria whispered to herself through a veil of tears. Though it was easing somewhat, the class barrier still existed. And she was not of the same class as the de la Vegas. It didn't stop them from being friends. But marriage would be out of the question.

She sat and cried for what seemed like a long time. What did she want anyway? Last night, she had believed with all her heart that Diego was Zorro. Now, she wasn't so sure. She wasn't even sure how she felt about Diego. It was difficult to put the two men together in her thoughts. Just because Diego was more muscled than she thought and had blue eyes did not make him Zorro. He certainly had not been the picture of a hero today.

If only she could see Zorro right now and be held by him! He always had a way of making her believe that it would all work out for the best. But if he were really a caballero like Diego….

There was a soft knock on the door. She told Lupita she would be a few more minutes and went about trying to wash the tears from her eyes and making herself presentable.

Soon, she was being ushered by Lupita and another servant girl she did not recognize away to an incredibly warm and inviting bed that perfectly matched the elegance of the bathroom. She remained quiet as she let the two girls minister to her and fuss over her. She didn't want to be any more trouble than she had to be, and right now, she just wanted them to leave so she could be alone with her thoughts.

Ten minutes had not gone by after they left before Don Alejandro was at her door asking if he might come in for a few minutes. She bade him enter and mustered up a smile for the dear man. She had always looked upon Don Alejandro as a sort of second father because he had always treated her so kindly.

"You must pardon my intrusion. But I wanted to have a word with you. Victoria, Lupita tells me that she thinks you are a little upset about something. Is there anything you need to tell me, my child? You know I will do anything in my power to set things right."

"Don Alejandro, everything is just fine. I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She silently cursed herself for her earlier tears. Lupita was obviously very observant.

"You are sure there's nothing you need to tell me. I plan on asking Diego the same question." He was emphasizing his words carefully.

"Don Alejandro, I think I know what you are asking. Believe me, there is nothing more to tell about last night than what Diego has already told you. Your son was a perfect gentleman, as always. I know you are more worried about my reputation than I am. And I think that is so sweet. But there's no need for it. Really. I just want you to know how much I appreciate you for letting me stay here tonight to recuperate. It's most generous of you. And I promise to be on my way home in the morning."

"Victoria, I –"

"Now if you'll excuse me, I am very tired. The trip back today trying to avoid all the storm's damage was quite exhausting. And please don't question Diego. There's really no need for it. Really."

He looked at her sternly one more time. Deciding to believe her, he took his leave and finally she was alone. Alone to enjoy a luxury that could never be hers again.

Don Alejandro made straight for Diego's room. There, he found Diego in deep conversation with Felipe. He always wondered at Diego's ability to understand Felipe's signs so completely.

"Diego, if I might have a word with you." Felipe nodded and signed something quickly to Diego before darting out of the room. "That boy can move so fast…" Alejandro's attention was so easily averted.

"Father, I was just about to climb into bed. Consuela made some herbal tea for me and it has done wonders for my cold, but I do feel a little drowsy. You have something on your mind?"

"I was just wondering… Lupita tells me that Victoria was…well…crying before. I just wanted to know if you knew of a reason for her tears."

"Crying? No, no, I don't. But she was quite emotional last night too. It occurred to me that she might have some latent, inward fears of lightning storms. She has not been herself since we got to that cave last night." Diego saw the seriousness in his father's face. "Father, you surely don't think…Really, father!"

"I don't know what to think. Young girls! It's hard to know what can set them off sometimes. I know that. But, you must admit, you have seriously compromised her by taking her with you yesterday and getting caught in the storm. What were you thinking!"

"How could I know there would be such a storm? I would not have gone myself, Father, if I had known. But she offered to go with me, and I knew I would enjoy the company. It was only to be for the afternoon, after all." Diego changed his tone, subtlety taking control of the conversation. "I will talk to her, Father, and get to the bottom of this. But tonight, I think we should leave her alone and let her get some rest. And I, myself, am in serious need of sleep. This cold is rather draining."

"Very well, Son. I will leave it up to you. But, in the future, you might be wiser in your dealings with Victoria. She has promised herself to another and I think you should remember that. Goodnight, Son."

Diego sighed as the door closed behind his father.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Neither of the young people slept well that night. The wind continued to blow furiously and its howling reverberated through the adobe walls. Just past midnight, the rain began again.

Diego was reminded of the old adage of one being "too tired to sleep." But even if he was not, the storm's thunderous pounding would have prevented him from a good night's rest. Finally he could stand it no longer. He got up and put on a robe and made his way to the library. It would be wise to check on Tornado anyway. The cave would provide ample shelter for the great stallion, but he might be made uneasy by all the noise.

He yawned sleepily as he approached the fireplace. Having already pressed the lever underneath the fireplace mantle, he froze at the quick intake of breath directly behind him. He whirled around to find Victoria within arm's reach. Immediately, he stepped to his left, hoping to block her view of the opened secret panel behind him.

"Victoria! What are you doing down here. Did the storm frighten you?" He crossed to her, trying to keep himself directly in her line of sight with the opening.

"I couldn't sleep. The storm…" She looked up at him in the dark room. The occasional bright flash of lightning through the window only partially lit his face. "What were you doing down here?" She moved purposefully around him and stared into the fireplace. "And just where does that lead, Señor de la Vega?" She looked at him accusingly with a small amount of triumph in her voice.

Diego's mind reeled. He quickly reached over to the lever and pressed it again, closing off the doorway. "Oh that? Why, it's …just …a storage room. For furniture, odds and ends, things like that. I had thought …that I had …left my book on a table in there the other day….so I…" His words did not even sound convincing to himself. What could he do?

"A book?" She crossed her arms and turned her head to one side. "Now, why don't I believe you!" She stepped forward and pressed the lever. The panel swung open and Diego could see clearly that she was going to step inside.

"Victoria, there is no light in there. You should not…." She could see the panic spreading across his features. "Please." He paused a moment and pressed the lever to close the panel once more. Then he said simply, "Don't."

Victoria hesitated.

Suddenly a huge tree limb crashed through the window, knocking Diego into her. He scrambled to his feet and leapt to the window to force the shutters closed against the wind and rain. Within minutes, several of the servants and Don Alejandro joined them in the library.

"Are you hurt, my dear?" Don Alejandro's first thoughts were for the safety of the two, but he quickly turned his attention to the mess in the room. "Now where did that come from?" There are no trees near the window."

"Father, you may yet get your secret wish to see a tornado up close! Just listen. It is getting worse." The sound of the storm had been steadily increasing and now sounded as if it were directly on top of them. "Quickly, you two, get under that table! Here!" He grabbed some cushions from the sofa and threw them to the servants. "Father, Victoria, here!" He had shoved the grate over inside the fireplace and motioned for them to huddle underneath the mantle.

Grabbing some more cushions and shouted instructions to them to protect their heads. His voice was barely audible above the roar of the storm. He turned over the sofa and propped it up against the fireplace so that it might provide just a bit more protection for them. Once that was done, Diego raced from the room to find Felipe. He had to make sure that he was safe too.

He ran straight into Felipe in the hallway outside his own room. As the storm's intensity grew even louder, he seized Felipe by the shoulders and pulled him forcefully underneath a sturdy looking doorframe.

The next few minutes seemed like hours. The winds beat at the house with all its might. The crescendo of thunder sought to destroy the very walls. Diego could feel Felipe trembling beneath his grasp. A tremendous crash sounded off to his left. He could hear the sound of breaking glass and groaning timbers.

Then all of a sudden, almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

Diego released his hold on Felipe and the two opened their eyes to survey the damage. The hallway was intact. But beyond that, they looked toward where Diego's bedroom had been and saw a black night sky. They both shuddered with relief. After exchanging a meaningful glance, the two began to run toward the library.

The room was much the same as he had left it. Don Alejandro and Victoria were emerging from behind the upturned sofa and the servants were peeping out from beneath the large table.

"Diego! What was that loud crash? We heard—"

"It was my room, Father. I am afraid the outside wall was destroyed." This side of the house did not do too badly, though." Even as he said the words, he was surveying a completely wrecked room. "I'm going out to check on the vaqueros. It might not be a bad idea it we gathered all the servants together tonight. It may not be over yet." He turned and ran out the door, heading for the stables.

"Juan, go check on the others. And if everything's all right, you might have Maria start a pot of tea. We may be up a while and it would be a small comfort."

Don Alejandro was already picking up items from the floor and trying to tidy up the room as best he could with the huge tree branch impeding his way. The servants began scurrying to all points of the house checking on what needed to be done.

Juan made it to Diego's bedroom to see if he could salvage Diego's clothes. He found the large oak wardrobe in the corner had been knocked on its side, but was otherwise intact. The clothes inside were safe enough for now. The heavy wood would surely keep them dry until daylight.

Victoria had gone to the kitchen to see what help she could offer. The tea was already steeping and she set about with trays and cups. The men from outside were straggling in with their own stories of what had happened in the stables and corrals.

Throughout it all, the sound of the heavy rain continued as it beat against the house. Diego had not gone straight to the stables as he had said. Instead, he had made his way around the perimeter of the house and down the rocky slope to the entrance to the cave. He had to check on Tornado. He stepped hard on the covered, spring board that triggered the opening of the passage.

Once inside, he found Tornado in his stall, well, but decidedly disturbed by the storm. Diego began methodically rubbing him down with the brushes, all the while speaking low and soothingly to him, calming him down from his agitated state. Tornado's value as a helper to him was a direct result of his spirited nature, but in this case, his high spirits could only be detrimental to Tornado. He was safe in the cave, but his heightened senses and his very nature might make him feel trapped by the cave instead of sheltered by it. Diego stayed with his four-footed friend for as long as he dared, but he knew he needed to get back to the house.

A look around the stables assured him that things were being handled quite well by the vaqueros and, before long, he reentered the house. He found everybody gathered in the kitchens. The vaqueros, dripping with rain, came in, just long enough to warm up with a cup of tea and then they went back out into the night to tend to the cattle and horses entrusted to their care.

Victoria's cheeks colored the instant she saw Diego walk through the door. She had been concerned, and the relief she felt, she knew, showed in her face. His clothes were wet once more and his hair dripping about his face, and she thought at once of her thoughts in the cave. She watched him, while trying not to get caught at it, as he took off his jacket and warmed his hands at the fire. She watched him sip the tea and dab at his face and hair with the towel Maria had fetched for him. When he caught her looking at him, she immediately looked away, embarrassed.

He picked up another cup of the tea and strode over to her to offer it to her. "I am beginning to feel this storm is following us!" He smiled hoping his attempt at levity would lighten her mood. "At this rate, we may never get you home!"

She took the cup and smiled back at him shyly. "Yes, you may have to put up with me a little longer."

"Put up with you? You know I would never phrase it that way." He changed to a serious tone. "I know you must be worried about the tavern. As soon as it is light, and if the storm has lessened, I will send someone to check it out before you start back. I'd like to know for sure what you are going to find before we let you leave."

"A good idea, Son," Don Alejandro joined them in their corner. "So far, the only damage to the house is to the library and Diego's room, so we've been very lucky. Diego, Juan says the wardrobe protected your clothes very well. He's going to move them into the room down the hall from mine for the time being." He looked his son up and down. "Perhaps you should go find a change of clothes now. It's not going to do that cold of yours any good to be running around in wet clothes."

"I'm fine, Father. They will dry out in a few minutes." His protests were interrupted by a small sneeze.

"Uh huh. You're going to be fine, all right." Don Alejandro turned to Consuela and pointed to his son. "Consuela, I think my son needs some of that very good medicine you force down me when I come down with anything. What do you think?"

Consuela needed no more prompting. Within minutes, she had Juan fetching Diego some dry clothes, Lupita preparing a bed in the room Diego would now be using, and Victoria warming up some broth. She herself ushered a protesting Diego down the hall, and within a half hour, Diego actually found himself in bed, being dosed with one of the most foul tasting medicines ever devised.

Victoria stood in the doorway with pursed lips. "Serves him right!" she thought, though why she was feeling so uncharitable towards Diego, she had no idea. He had acted most heroically throughout this whole ordeal, come to think of it, even if he didn't look the part.

Her thoughts jumped to the fireplace and she excused herself and made her way back down the long hallway to the library. What was really behind the fireplace? She stood in the middle of the room contemplating the possibilities. Was it just a storage room as he said? No, he had acted as if he'd been caught in the act of doing ... what? There were all kinds of stories about these old haciendas and secret passages and tunnels to protect the landed gentry from Indian attacks.

But there also flashed into her mind a picture of a cave-like room. The place Zorro had taken her once. It was in that place, a very long time ago, that he had given her the ring she treasured so. The ring that had come with a promise that someday she and Zorro would share a life together.

And he had brought her something else that day. A meal! He had disappeared up a stone stairway and come back later with a lovely cooked meal. That meant there had been a kitchen close by somewhere. It was possible...

The room had been cleared of most of the debris already. She noticed a cushion lying on the floor and bent to pick it up and place it on the chair. The storm had quieted down now and there was only a steady slow rain beating against the shutters. The others were all back in the kitchen now.

Victoria saw her opportunity and went for it. Grabbing a lit, single candlestick from the table, she pressed the lever and the small doorway swung open, showing a dark rectangular entry leading off into darkness. Before it could swing shut again, she was through.

She found herself in a small passageway that led downwards. "No furniture here," she remarked out loud as she confirmed her suspicions. Diego had lied. And it appeared that her candle was unnecessary. There was light ahead. Another lie! She took a deep breath and stepped further into the passageway.

Aromas of various kinds assailed her nostrils, some pleasant, and some not so pleasing. When she got to the bottom of the steps and saw a huge cavern-like room open up before her, she froze and dropped the candlestick. The silver clattered loudly against the stone as she fought a wave of dizziness.

This was it! This was the very room she had been in before on that day so long ago. There before her was a table filled with all kinds of scientific equipment, glass vials and bottles. Beyond the table, she glimpsed the swishing tail of a very large black horse. Tornado. And to her right, the very chair she had sat in as Zorro had bandaged her sprained ankle. To her left, a black silk cape hung next to a black hat, trimmed with silver conchos.

Her legs gave way beneath her and she sank down to sit on the step. It was true! What more proof could there be? Diego was Zorro. The man that lay in a bed upstairs with a cold was the legendary hero she loved.

She sat there for a few more minutes drinking in all the sights of the room and trying to make sense of it all. How had she not known? It all seemed so simple now. Zorro could not be anyone else. Diego had fooled everybody with his acts of clumsiness and bookishness. She could see the reason for all his actions now. His laziness! He slept late because he spent his nights riding as Zorro. His friendliness with Sergeant Mendoza, buying him food and wine. Why, he had been pumping him for information all the time! All those unexplained absences when Zorro made an appearance.

Oh yes, now she could see everything. Or did she? What about his "romance" with her as Zorro? Was it for real? Or was it just an act of some kind? Wouldn't he have courted her as Diego if he had really been serious? The answer seemed obvious and painful. He had an ulterior motive for pretending to care for her. Possibly the same one as he did for his dealings with the Sergeant. Anything to help his cause.

She had indeed helped him in many ways in the past. She'd always provided him with useful information when she could, aided him when he had come to her hurt, and given him sanctuary when he required it. But she had also given him her heart. Had that been what he had wanted or what she had needed?

She felt drained of all emotion. Her life was in tatters and she couldn't even cry. Is this what a broken heart was like?

She slowly got up and turned back to the passageway. Somehow, she made it back through it and to her room without being seen. She locked the door behind her, undressed, and climbed into bed. She would think about all of this tomorrow. Right now, her body needed sleep. Her mind needed just to stop! She wanted to just stop thinking of everything.

For once, she wished she liked the taste of wine. She now understood why some of the soldiers could drink themselves into an unconscious state. That's what she would like to do now. Anything to stop the flow of her thoughts as they leapt from Diego to Zorro and back again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Diego slept for ten hours straight. Felipe had been determined that his friend was going to get enough rest to get over his cold, so he had guarded his door like a King's Lancer. It was mid-afternoon before he emerged from his new room, ravenously hungry. His cold was much better.

Whatever was in that medicine of Consuela's had certainly made him sleep soundly. He made a mental note to analyze a sample of it later in his laboratory. It might prove interesting.

He dressed quickly as he began to realize just how late he had slept. There was so much to be done today. First, he had to see Victoria.

But Victoria had already left for the pueblo. Several of the vaqueros had accompanied her to offer their help wherever it would be needed. They had been given specific instructions to escort the señorita back to the hacienda if the tavern was not found to be habitable.

So Diego took the time to eat a hearty, but very late, breakfast before he started out for Los Angeles. Consuela hovered about him as he ate. She had been tempted to sneak some more of her secret potion into his food to force him back to bed, but she was finally reassured that his health was on the mend. And she was sure of it when she saw him sneak a bite of the flan she had prepared for supper. She playfully slapped at his hands which only caused him to laugh on his way out the door. He was definitely feeling better.

The tavern, with the exception of a few missing roof tiles, had escaped the wrath of the storm. But the quartel had not been so lucky during the second night of storms. One of the walls had collapsed, and the soldiers were already busy at the repairs.

Diego headed straight for the tavern. It was alive with business. The people working at repairs were all taking their meals at the tavern and there was a steady stream of customers. Victoria was busy in the kitchen and Diego went straight on in to see her.

"Maria, this is ready—"

When she looked up to find Diego, the dish she held fell to the floor. They both stood there staring into each other's eyes for a few seconds before both dropped to their knees at the same time.

"Here, let me do that. It was my fault for startling you." He took the cloth from her and began cleaning up the mess.

She watched his hands work and then the reality of what he was doing sank in and she quickly said, "No, no, you can't. It's not your place —" There was venom in her tone as she took the messy cloth from him, reached for another and began wiping his hands. "Please, Diego. I can manage —"

"I know, Victoria, you manage everything you do very well." He smiled at her and quickly retreated into the dining room. It was clear she was angry with him. He wasn't sure exactly why, but it was very typical of their relationship. It probably had something to do with his rising too late to escort her back into town. She had frequently made derogatory comments to him about his sleeping habits.

He sat at a table near the door and was soon joined by Sergeant Mendoza. The sergeant ordered a big plate of enchiladas while Diego nursed his tall glass of orange juice. The sergeant was full of news of damage reports all over the area. Mendoza carried the conversation all by himself, for the most part, as Diego watched Victoria out of the corner of his eye and nodded to him every few minutes to signal he was listening.

Victoria seemed to be moving about the room almost in a daze. She filled glasses here, removed plates of food there, but always with a smile that seemed forced. She came over to the table only once to ask the Sergeant if he desired anything else and avoided eye contact with Diego entirely. He made up his mind then and there, that tonight, Zorro would have to pay her a visit. Diego was obviously not going to be able to talk to her.

The weather was now just a matter of strong winds. The rains had finally let up and things were beginning to dry out nicely.

Zorro found his ride to town exhilarating. He only hoped it was going to be as thrilling on the way back. He didn't know what he was going to say to Victoria since he really didn't know what was wrong. Women could be so mysterious.

He knocked softly at the window and she answered quickly.

It was early tonight, not even ten o'clock yet. The danger he placed himself in was even greater this early in the evening. The lancers had not settled in their beds yet. She would know that as well.

He swung a leg over the sill and expected her to rush into his arms. But she held back. He could not even reach for her hand from that distance. He swung his other leg over and cautiously advanced toward her.

"Querida, I've missed you." He caught her hand in his and raised it to his lips. He felt her stiffen and the reaction shocked him. "Is there something wrong?" The mask couldn't disguise the concern in his eyes.

Blue eyes, Diego's blue eyes, stared at her from behind the mask. She didn't want to let him know that she had found out his secret. But she was so angry with him. She lowered her head to keep that piercing stare from reading her mind.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just very tired. I've had a rough few days and I'm tired. But I'm always glad to see you. Tonight is just not a good night for me. I had already made preparations for bed." She gestured towards the turned down bed covers. It was a weak excuse and she knew it. His visits usually rejuvenated her no matter how tired she was, and he would know that.

She watched him cross to the nightstand and pick up the book that lay there. "Ah! A fine book. You will enjoy this. Very inspiring and most quotable." He turned back to the window and she knew he was going to leave.

All at once, she knew she really wanted him to stay. Oh, this was so confusing. How could she bear being in the same room with him; and how could she bear for him to leave like this!

"Zorro! Don't go!" She ran to him then, and his arms folded around her in relief. "I've been in such a terrible mood lately. Forgive me if I seem..."

"Distant?"

"Yes." She stood on her tiptoes to reach his lips and tried to make up for her earlier coldness. His body responded to hers as it always did. Within a few more minutes, he knew he would have to be leaving before his response overwhelmed his judgment.

He made his farewells, fairly content that he had at least cheered up his lady by a small amount.

When he had left, Victoria turned to face the empty room. Her gaze lit and narrowed upon the book on the nightstand. It was the book she had been reading last week, and she hadn't touched it since then. She picked it up and saw the author's name. Alexander Pope.

A thought struck her and she started thumbing through the pages until she found the quote she remembered. There it was.

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest"

And then she saw the next line:

"Lo, the poor Indian! Whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;"

Yes, Zorro had quoted the first lines and Diego had quoted the rest. But what did that mean? Had he really been trying to give her clues? And if he had been doing this all along, did he really want her to guess? Or did he know that his clues were so obscure as to be almost indiscernible? Or was he just careless and he couldn't remember what he had said to her in each of his identities? That was another possibility.

But none of it really mattered. None of it changed the fact that he was Diego de le Vega. A caballero. Someone totally, undeniably, out of her reach.

Again, she went to bed with tears in her eyes. All the questions danced before her eyes and in her mind as she fought for sleep. But there was one answer among all the questions. Whatever his intentions, and whoever he truly was, Diego or Zorro, she loved the man and she wanted him. She could just see no way it could ever happen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Zorro rode slowly back to the hacienda. He had taken the long way because of the early hour of the evening. His heart was heavy and he was lost in deep thought when he heard the woman's scream.

Tornado reared at his touch and turned swiftly back down the road he had come toward the sound.

The woman and her husband were being dragged from their home by several men. Already the man was being beaten. Zorro's whip caught one man's fist on the upswing and yanked him off his feet and onto his back in the dirt. Another had the sense to make a run for it at the sight of the masked rider. The third found his courage in his sword.

Zorro heaved a sigh as he dismounted, quickly drawing his own sword on the way to the ground. He had only to engage the man's steel blade a few times before he understood every move the man knew. He had hoped for more of a challenge. Allowing his anger to come to the fore, he landed a hard left hook to the man's jaw and sent him sprawling, unconscious, to the ground.

"Are you injured?" Zorro helped the lady to her feet and was relieved to see her husband also rising.

"Señor Zorro! I never thought I'd see the day when you would come to my aid. Mil gracias, Señor!"

"Sí, Señor, those men! They -" The woman's voice rose dangerously high toward hysterics.

Her husband took her in his arms and began a rocking motion. "It's all right now. You're safe. Safe with the one who loves you." He looked over her head to Zorro and winked at the masked man. "Women! They need a lot of protecting, no? And a lot of loving, isn't that right, mi preciosa?" He continued the rocking and patted her shoulders.

Zorro watched the man successfully calming his wife and wondered briefly if he should be asking the man for lessons in that area. But all he said aloud was, "Señor, why were those men attacking you?"

"I'm not sure. But I think they thought there was some money in the house tonight. I had taken some supplies to the mission today and the good padre gave me some money as payment. I took the money to the bank for Señor Herrera. But I remember those men standing around. Perhaps they thought I kept some of the money."

"Well, I don't think that one that ran off will be back. And these two will be headed for Mendoza's jail. But lock up tight tonight." He looked at the Señora with her arms wrapped lovingly about her husband and he felt a pang of jealousy. "I'm sure you and the Señora can go back to your bed."

He finished tying up the two men, made sure each had a pretty "Z" carved into the backsides of their pants and loaded them across the saddles of their own horses. Soon, the two horses were being led to the quartel.

Zorro dropped from the saddle and walked right up to the sleeping guard on duty outside the quartel gate. Smiling ruefully, he carefully removed the rifle from the lancer's hands and replaced it with the reins of the two horses.

He then mounted Tornado, guided him forward quietly a short distance, and discharged the rifle. At the sound of the shot, the lancer jumped to his feet, confused to find only the horses reins in his hands, and looked up to see Zorro with his rifle.

But before he could shout the alarm, Zorro threw the spent gun to him. "Here, Corporal, I think this is yours!" And with a wave, Zorro let Tornado run at full gallop toward the gates. The shouts of lancers could be heard behind him and a volley of useless gunfire followed. For Zorro was already gone like the wind.

Felipe was waiting for his arrival back at the cave. While Zorro transformed himself back into Diego, Felipe saw to Tornado's needs.

Straitening his collar, Diego, now fully dressed in clothes more suited to his wealthy landowner's son persona, bent to look through the peephole into the library. As he stepped back, he heard and felt something crunch beneath his boot. He knelt to pick up the crushed piece of hard wax. Puzzled, he looked around in an arc and saw at once the silver candlestick a few paces away.

"Felipe! It is unlike you to leave such a mess —"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew his assumption was wrong. "Felipe! You didn't drop this candle, did you?"

He spoke the question sharply enough that Felipe dropped the brushes and darted over to where he stood. He shook his head from side to side slowly as he gazed at the pieces of wax.

"And neither did I." Diego let out a long sigh as Felipe quickly began signing his jumble of thoughts.

"No, Felipe, I think I know exactly who our intruder was. Victoria. It would explain her behavior tonight. She knows." He shook his head. "I have imagined telling her in a thousand different ways, but I have never once thought how I would handle her finding out on her own."

Felipe quickly signed a question.

"No, I have no idea what I am going to do. I shall have to give this some thought. She was not exactly pleased with me today. Either one of me!"

Felipe put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a weak, questioning smile.

"Yes, I am fine. I just wish I could cope with Victoria as well as I did with those bandits tonight."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next few days were busy ones for Zorro and he was thankful for the diversions.

Money flowed freely throughout the pueblo as repairs and rebuilding commenced. The storm had hit both haciendas and hovels, peons and patróns. Those who had not suffered losses had opened their purses and a very real sense of community had settled over the pueblo.

But along with the good came some bad. Several outsiders had ridden into town, bent on using the opportunity to take advantage of the unwary wherever they could. Diego kept watch for trouble during the day and then Zorro rectified the situations by night.

He only caught an occasional glimpse of Victoria and she never sought him out at all. His mood slid downhill steadily as the week wore on and the troubles continued.

The alcalde's mood was no better. De Soto woke up each morning with a couple more bandidos in his jail, courtesy of Zorro. Rather than being grateful for the extra help, he grew more incensed with each new prisoner. By Saturday night, as the dusk settled down over the pueblo, his anger was at its peak.

"How dare he continue to do this to me!" he wailed to no one in an empty office. "I'll see him on my gallows yet! Mendoza!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Mendoza!"

The sergeant came running and clicked his heals at attention. "Sí, mi alcalde!" He already dreaded what was coming next.

"Sergeant, I want Zorro in my jail before this night is out. Do you understand me?" He peered into the shorter man's eyes. "No more mistakes. No more misses. Understand?"

"Sí, mi alcalde!" He could feel the hot breath of his commanding officer on his face. "But-"

"No buts! I want Zorro dead or alive. I don't care how. But I do care when! I want him now! Now, Sergeant, we need bait! And the only sure-fire bait that is guaranteed to draw him out is that little tramp of a barmaid across the street!" De Soto slowly circled the sergeant as he told him what he had planned. "I want her put in the stocks tonight." He laughed at his own cleverness. "He will never allow her to spend any length of time in them. I want every lancer on duty. Our best shots will be stationed on the roofs and when Zorro comes to rescue his saucy little tavern wench," he sneered as he said the words, "we'll be ready for him! Now, Sergeant, go get the men ready. This had better run like clockwork, or I'll have your head as well!"

"Sí, mi alcalde!" Mendoza saluted and ran from the room. He was already shaking at the thought of what he had to do. "Madre de Dios!" he muttered to himself, "when Zorro finds out about this...Madre de Dios!"

He walked slowly toward the barracks to tell his men about the orders.

But Zorro had already discovered the plan, for he had been listening underneath the window as the alcalde had issued the orders. His temper was white hot and he fought to hold it in check.

For once, he did not trouble himself to come in through the roof. He would use the door to pay his visit to the alcalde tonight! While De Soto's back was turned, he swiftly slipped into the room. "Good evening, Alcalde!"

"Zorro!" De Soto reached for the pistol on the desk but Zorro drew his sword quickly and knocked it to the floor.

"This is the thanks I get for doing your work for you? For Shame!" Zorro clicked his tongue at the man. "Such ingratitude. And as for your plans for the Señorita ... I am afraid I cannot let you go through with them. You see, a lady must never be treated in that manner. A gentleman would know that." His eyes flashed the anger he felt through the mask. "How dare you!"

De Soto knew the challenge in the statement and looked over at his sword in its scabbard lying on the chair, just a short distance away.

Zorro nodded and rested his own blade on his shoulder while the alcalde drew the sword from its sheath. "Prepare to die, you outlaw!"

"Oh please! Aren't we being just a shade melodramatic?" Zorro smiled as the alcalde leapt forward in a lunge only to find air at the tip of the blade.

Then with three strokes of his blade, Zorro disarmed the man easily and pointed the tip of his saber at the alcalde's throat. "Now, alcalde, my patience wears thin. You will rescind your orders and if you ever even breathe the señorita's name again with such disrespect, I will be back. And the next time we meet, I... will ...kill ...you." He uttered the deadly threat through clenched teeth and moved the sword's tip from the alcalde's throat to precisely above his heart. He put just enough pressure behind the blade that it pierced the uniform so De Soto could feel the cold steel on his skin.

The alcalde's breathing became ragged with fear but he managed a nervous laugh. "But you never kill! Everybody knows that. You wouldn't-" He shrank from the sword's tip, "_just in case,_" he thought, and backed right up against the door.

Zorro stepped forward keeping the blade against his chest. "I wouldn't place too much store in my past behavior. A man can take only so much. And I've had —"

"Alcalde!" Suddenly the door was shoved open forcibly by the sergeant and the alcalde was thrown forward and impaled upon Zorro's blade.

For five long seconds, the scene was frozen in time.

The alcalde, a look of astonishment on his face, looked into Zorro's widened eyes as the outlaw's gaze was held by the tip of his own blade imbedded in the alcalde's chest. Then the alcalde's body slid slowly to the floor as Zorro let go of the offensive weapon.

"Alcalde! Zorro! Madre de Dios!" The sergeant knelt down and looked at De Soto. "He's dead!"

"It appears I have killed the alcalde." Zorro's voice was a raspy whisper.

"But Zorro, it was an accident. I saw! You would never have..."

"You don't know that." Zorro's voice was strangely quiet. "It was my blade that took his life. You must do your duty, Sergeant"

"My duty?"

"Yes, you must arrest me," Zorro turned away at that moment so the sergeant could not see the tears well up in his eyes, "for murder."

Zorro walked towards the back room and the jail cells.

"But Señor Zorro, I…you — I must go get the padre."

"A good idea, Sergeant." Zorro said bleakly as he reached for the keys on the peg and opened the cell door. He let himself inside and turned to throw the keys back to the peg in an easy motion. He closed the door and sat dejectedly on the hard cot.

The masked man's thoughts were in chaos and belied his outward calmness. He had killed! The one thing he had sought to prevent, from the very beginning, had now been done by his own hand. He sank into a quagmire of misery.

By the time the padre got there, he had gone through the scene many times, trying to find out what had truly been in his heart.

"Zorro?" Padre Benitez had to repeat the name several times to call Zorro from his deep reverie. "Zorro? Sergeant, please let me in. I think he is in need of my services too."

The sergeant came running in and was surprised to see Zorro locked in the cell. Seeing the keys on the peg he guessed immediately that the outlaw had done this to himself.

"Sí, padre."

Mendoza let the padre enter and after a few seconds of not knowing what to do, he went back out into the alcalde's office. The doctor and undertaker were already coming through the door. Both faces, at first, registered shock when they saw the bloody corpse before them, and then relief as they ascertained the identity of the body. They set about their work and before long, De Soto's body had been moved over to the undertaker's business parlor and the floor had been cleaned.

The sergeant sat on the desk's edge trying to make sense of it all. In some ways, he was not that sorry the alcalde was dead. No one would be. It was sad, but it was the truth. He had been an evil man, a truly, evil man and he had done so many bad things to many good people.

Mendoza felt sad that it was his own impulsive action that had caused the man's death. It was an accident. The sergeant knew that, and the padre had believed it. But he didn't think Zorro looked at it that way. He hoped the padre could talk some sense into him. He had never seen Zorro look so sad.

He looked at the papers on the desk. With a jolt, he realized that he himself would now be in charge until a new alcalde could be appointed. But the papers could wait. A friend was in need and he knew what that friend needed more than anything else.

He got up, straightened his tunic slowly, and took a deep breath. He would go see the señorita and she would know how to make Zorro feel better.

The sergeant strode across the street and into Victoria's tavern. The tavern was busy and it was surprising that the news of what had just happened had not yet reached the people gathered there. He found the señorita in the kitchen tending to some dishes. He waited a few moments before clearing his throat to get her attention.

"Señorita? I have something to tell you."

"Oh, Sergeant Mendoza. Yes, what is it?" She looked up at him brightly and began wiping her hands of the dishwater.

"Señorita,... I ...have just... arrested Zorro." He looked sheepishly at her, almost afraid to make eye contact.

"Arrested Zorro? But that's impossible!" Was this a joke?

"Sí señorita ... He's in a jail cell right now. I think you should go to him. He is not..."

"Sergeant, if this is some kind of sick joke —" she brushed past him and walked straight for the door.

"Señorita! There's something you should know —"

He followed her out the door and across the street. At the sound of the sergeant's voice behind her, she walked faster, knowing that something was dreadfully wrong. The possible scenes played through her mind. Zorro had been hurt. That was what the sergeant had been trying to tell her. She steeled herself for what she would find as she opened the door to the alcalde's office.

There was no one there. She looked around, suddenly at a loss, but before the sergeant could catch up with her, she whisked through the back door and into the room containing the jail cells.

There she saw Zorro inside a cell with the padre, kneeling together in prayer.

She stopped cold, trying to make sense of it all. The prayer was in Latin and she didn't understand the words. But she knew she must wait until the padre was finished. The words seemed to drone on and on for long minutes.

She grew inpatient.

The sergeant had stepped up silently behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned, surprised. And then, she was surprised again to see the sergeant, his head hanging low, with tears in his eyes. What on earth was going on?

The padre was finished his prayer, and got to his feet, expecting Zorro to do the same, but the outlaw remained on his knees, silently praying on his own. His eyes were closed, trying to shut out the world, it would seem, and the padre moved quietly to the cell door.

He ushered the sergeant and the señorita out into the adjoining office and shut the door.

"Padre, is he going to be all right?" Mendoza was worried about his good friend.

"Of course he will, Sergeant. It just may take some time. Everything always works out for good in God's world, though the timing may not be our own. Señorita, he will need your comfort in time, but perhaps you should give him a few more minutes so the Lord can offer a greater comfort to him." He smiled compassionately and turned to the sergeant. "He does have a very major concern, Sergeant, and I do agree with him on this."

"What is that, Padre?"

"I assume you are in charge right now." Victoria shot a confused look at he sergeant. "And it is within your power to order that his mask not be removed for now. Zorro fears for his family's sake, and would like his identity be kept secret for now, even though he is in your custody and agrees to offer no resistance, no attempt of escape. Will you grant him this request?"

"Sí, of course, Padre. I - I - Padre, I didn't even really arrest him, you know?"

"I know, but he's right in this. You should have. There is a question about the alcalde's death and it should be resolved. You will be Zorro's best witness in the case against him. I only wish the battle his conscience is fighting right now could be resolved as easily as the legal one will probably be."

"The alcalde's dead?" Victoria was relieved to hear it. Maybe there was some chance for Zorro after all. She wanted to go to him so desperately. She made a move for the door, but the padre restrained her.

"A few more minutes, my child. Please."

She looked at him in alarm. "Padre, are you trying to tell me that Zorro is accused of killing the alcalde? It's just not true! I know it!"

"Señorita, I was there...I mean...here. He did kill the alcalde but it was an accident. It was just as much my fault as his, Señorita!"

Victoria would listen to no more. Zorro, no, _Diego_, needed her and she would go to him!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Zorro was still on his knees when the jangle of the keys cut through his misery. He got to his feet as she came through the cell door. And then she was in his arms. He clung to her like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline. He whispered her name over and over as she hugged him close. Long minutes passed with the two locked in each other's arms.

At last, Zorro drew apart from her. Explanations had to be given. Many things had to be said. And both were very aware of the need to keep their voices down, so they spoke in near whispers.

"Victoria, thank you for coming. If ever I needed you, it is tonight." His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He sat down slowly on the cot and she sat down beside him. "I am not sure what is going to happen next. I may ...hang."

"No! Mendoza says it was an accident! They would never -"

"A man is dead and I am responsible. I don't know if a magistrate will believe that what happened in that office tonight was an accident. I am not sure if I believe it."

She started to protest and he stopped her. "Shhh... Victoria, I was angry. I wanted to scare him, but a part of me did want to kill him. And I do not think I can deny that in a courtroom."

"But Mendoza will testify that —"

"Yes, the sergeant will tell the truth as he knows it. But the truth is that if I had not entered that office tonight, De Soto would still be alive. The alcalde was an evil man but he did not deserve to die. No man is —"

"'No man is totally evil'?" she repeated. "Yes, you have said that before."

He turned his head quickly to look into her eyes. "I said that before?"

"Yes, you did. You may have been dressed differently at the time." She allowed herself a slight smile.

Their eyes locked. Now, each knew the other's secret.

"Hmm. Correct me if I am wrong, but you ahve always been partial to black."

"Yes, well, I've been thinking that I could get used to a less somber wardrobe on you, if given some time."

"Time is something I may not have."

"No, don't even talk like that! This will work out. You did not kill De Soto. It was an accident. I believe it and so will everyone else!" She would not let him sink back down into that dark way of thinking. "If you're going to insist upon staying in here, I think I had better tell certain people you're here, don't you think?"

"Yes, that would be a good idea. Victoria, my father doesn't know. I am not sure it would be a good idea to tell him now. I —"

"What about," she looked over her shoulder to make sure the door to the outside office was still closed, "what about Felipe? He knows, doesn't he?"

"Yes. Zorro could not exist without his help. You have figured it all out, haven't you?"

"And it hasn't been an easy task. This mask is not the only one you've worn. The other one has been even more concealing. I just hope you know how to remove it when the time comes."

"And I just hope I live long enough to do so. What will you tell my father?"

"Do you think he suspects?"

"Sometimes I could swear he does, but I really don't think so. Let Felipe lead him to believe I've had a sudden urge to go to San Pedro to see a friend. We have used it as an excuse before. Oh, and Tornado is out behind the church. Felipe will have to take him home. I am not sure he would let you near him. He has been rather temperamental since the storms."

"That seems like a long time ago."

"Yes. You'd better be going. The good sergeant may grow curious soon. And I would prefer you not be on the road too late. I cannot believe I am allowing you to —"

"If I don't, Felipe will be worried. And if you're really serious about staying in jail, Don Alejandro needs to know. He would want to know if Zorro was in jail. I have no doubt that he will come right away to offer you help in getting a lawyer."

"Yes, he probably will. I just don't know if I should —"

"I know. Just try to think about it. Sort it out. I'll be back soon. Try not to worry. And don't be too hard on yourself. You are not a killer, whatever you're letting yourself believe, right now. It was an accident. Even the padre said so."

"He wasn't there."

"But he is a wise man and I'm sure Mendoza has told him exactly what happened. I have only just found out the true man behind the mask. Do not, for one minute, think that I will let anything stand between that man and me. And that means a judge, a jury, the gallows, or even Zorro's sense of justice!" She pulled his head down so she could reach his lips. She kissed him long and hard to show him her strength. For tonight, she was to be strong for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

A new sense of determination carried Victoria swiftly to the hacienda. Felipe, thankfully, answered the door. She quickly told him all that had happened, hoping he understood it all. Diego had told her once that he read lips well, and she now knew the mind behind those piercing eyes was very sharp as well. But would he know what had to be done tonight?

He did. Felipe made straight for the stables. Tornado was his first concern; that would be one less worry for Zorro.

"Victoria! What are you doing out at this hour? Is something wrong?" Alejandro was still dressed.

"Don Alejandro! I have bad news. Zorro has been arrested! The alcalde was killed and —"

"Killed! Slow down. Tell me what has happened." He had heard the words but they couldn't be true!

"There was an accident. The alcalde is dead." She said the words evenly. "Zorro is in jail and will be accused of the crime. He —" She looked at the alarm in his father's eyes and hesitated before continuing. "Zorro needs your help, Don Alejandro. He is blaming himself and he is going to need a very good lawyer. You must —"

"Of course, I will help him. That goes without saying." Stray thoughts and confusion swirled in his head, then he straitened his back and said, "First things first! Let's get him out of that jail! Come!"

With a hastily scribbled note in his hand, he first sought out a vaquero to deliver a message to his retained attorney in Monterey. He ordered Dulcinea saddled as well as a fresh mount for Victoria.

They were well on the way before Victoria realized that Don Alejandro had not even tried to find Diego. It was well known that Diego knew more about the law than anyone else in the pueblo. It would have been natural to enlist his help. Did Alejandro know he would not find Diego in the hacienda tonight?

It was still well before midnight when the two riders arrived at the pueblo. There was light shining through almost every window. Word had begun to spread of the night's happenings. Alejandro and Victoria found Zorro lying on the cot, his full length stretched beyond its end, a hand covering his eyes.

He jumped up quickly at the sound of the jingling keys.

"Don Alejandro! I never thought I would meet you on this side of the bars." He offered a rueful smile.

"Nor I!" Don Alejandro's tone was serious.

Mendoza let him and Victoria into the cell and he paused as he took in the subdued condition of the young man before him.

"Well, we will get you out of this. You can be assured of that. I've already sent word to Señor Olvera in Monterey." He paused again as Mendoza shut the cell door. "He's my personal lawyer and a very good one. He'll know exactly what to do about this." He turned a hard glare at Mendoza as he saw the man apply the key to the lock once more.

"I'm sorry, Don Alejandro, but regulations, you know?" He gave the two men and the señorita a truly miserable look. Noise from the front office was filtering through the door and Mendoza excused himself to see what was going on in the front room. Anything was preferable than the stern looks he was getting from Don Alejandro and Señorita Escalante.

The elder Don continued, "I have a retainer with Señor Olvera and I know he will take your case. But Victoria says this was an accident. Surely you won't need much of a defense."

"An accident?" Zorro repeated sadly. "Only moments before I was threatening to do the very thing I did. I am not sure it _was_ an —"

"Of course it was! And I don't want to hear another word from you about any other possibility! I've spoken to Mendoza. He is more than willing to allow you to be released into my custody until a trial is held - if there is a trial. I'm still unsure if there is even a need for one."

Zorro opened his mouth to object.

"Hush! You will stay at the hacienda!" said Don Alejandro.

Don Alejandro continued talking and laying out plans while Victoria fought to control a fit of laughter that threatened to bubble forth. The idea of someone telling Zorro to hush was just too much to be believed. But the fact that he did was even more so. Don Alejandro's confidence that everything was going to be fine was catching and she was much less worried than she had been. She watched the two men interact with one another with a newfound wonder. How strange it must be for Diego!

The conversation droned on in the small room, but there was a background rumbling that grew ever louder in her ears. Raised voices and loud banging noises assailed her ears and gradually garnered her attention. What was going on in the alcalde's...no, in Mendoza's office? The two men also turned toward the door as Mendoza burst through waving his arms.

"Madre de Dios! Zorro, you've got to do something!" Mendoza's hands were shaking as he worked with the keys to get the cell door opened. "It's a lynch mob! We've got to get you out of here! Madre de Dios!"

"A lynch mob! Sergeant, you can't be serious!" Don Alejandro's voice rose above the clamor. "The people would not want to lynch their hero!" But the rumblings beyond the door gave credence to Mendoza's words.

"No, not Zorro. They want to kill _me_! Oh, Madre de Dios!" The Sergeant sank onto the cot in misery and Don Alejandro rushed through the door of the barred cell and into the outer room. One look out the window told him all he needed to know. He went back to inform the others.

"The whole town's out there! They're shouting and chanting for your release. I think the Sergeant is right. It's his neck they're after."

"I'll talk to them," Zorro said simply and he strode for the door.

At the sight of him, the crowd stilled.

"Good people of Los Angeles! Go home. The sergeant has done nothing wrong. But I have."

The crowd came alive again with shouts and murmurs.

"Please, listen to me! The alcalde is dead by my hand. Sergeant Mendoza is now in charge of the garrison, and I trust him to be fair in all his dealings. You must trust him too. Justice will see this through to a proper conclusion. Go home to your families. Go home, and pray for the soul of Ignacio De Soto."

Don Sebastian spoke up from the front of the crowd. "I will pray for you, Señor Zorro, but I will not pray for one such as De Soto!"

"Don't let Padre Benitez hear you talk like that, Don Sebastian!" A few chuckles peppered the stilled crowd. "Please, find it in your hearts to forgive. And give the good Sergeant your allegiance. He will need your help in the coming weeks to restore this pueblo to the peaceful community it once was. Go home," he commanded once more. "Go home!" He turned his back on the crowd and reentered the building.

Slowly, the crowd dispersed and Mendoza began to calm down. He was even more relieved to hear Zorro agree to Don Alejandro's proposal for him to move out to the hacienda. This would surely placate those angry people when they found out he was no longer being held in the jail.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It took Zorro a long time to feel at home in one of the extra bedrooms of the hacienda, for he was there as Zorro, not Diego. He loathed being extra trouble for the servants, but he had insisted that all his meals be served in his room. He said he wanted to preserve the feel that he was still under some kind of house arrest. But actually, he was just being careful to protect his secret. Being in his own home with his own family and house servants around could very easily lull him into carelessness. He couldn't take the chance. He was careful to keep his mask close and the curtains drawn at the window.

Don Alejandro had instructed that he be given some of Diego's clothes to wear. After all, they were much the same size and build and they should fit him. He had also supplied Zorro with ample reading material on various subjects. One book was even the very one Diego had been in the middle of reading ...was it only last week?

The time passed slowly. The scene in De Soto's office played itself out over and over in his mind, and his guilt had only deepened.

Señor Ricardo Olvera had arrived from Monterrey within days and had questioned both Zorro and Sergeant Mendoza. He had pulled in some favors from the office of the governor so that the trial would be held quickly. His research and methods were impressive to Zorro, but his pleas to Zorro to help in his own defense fell on deaf ears. This was one trial in which he would not interfere. He did not want to hang, but he wanted his fate to be decided by an impartial jury.

Long talks with Don Alejandro and Señor Olvera, had led him to believe more and more that he would be acquitted of the crime. There was just no one that could be called to act as a juror that would ever vote him guilty.

Judge Saucedo, the judge that would be presiding over the trial, was scheduled to arrive in two more days. Saucedo was known to be fair. And if Señor Olvera remembered correctly, he had once told a story at a party once about having his life saved by a certain masked bandit on El Camino Real! So it would seem that Zorro's legal problems were being solved one by one.

Felipe had found Tornado easily that night, and had been looking after the stallion admirably. He had also managed to sneak Zorro's sword and whip out of the alcalde's office, right out from under Mendoza's nose! As long as Zorro's identity was still secret, Felipe intended to see to it that Zorro would have everything he needed to resume his fight for justice, should the need arise!

Sergeant Mendoza was managing quite nicely with the business of the pueblo and quickly gaining new respect amongst the townspeople.

Alcalde Ignacio De Soto had been buried quickly and quietly with only the Padre and Sergeant Mendoza in attendance. There was only a small tombstone and no flowers were placed on his grave.

Victoria was torn. She wanted to be with Diego but she knew that, right now, she couldn't see him. Not that he would have permitted the servants to let her into his room.

The strange disappearance of Diego had been explained as a sudden visit to Santa Paula to complete some business dealings for Don Alejandro. The story was different than the one she had suggested to Felipe and it made Victoria wonder. But she hadn't seen Felipe to ask him about the change in alibi.

She was going mad thinking about it all. Two more days and then maybe, life would return to normal! The waiting was impossible. Zorro was the only topic of conversation wherever she went. But usually her entrance stopped conversations cold.

Speculation was running rampant. What was to happen to Zorro? What was to happen with his romance with the pretty young señorita? She had heard the whispers of her customers as they wondered why she was not at the hacienda with her lover.

Her lover! Is that what people thought? That she and Zorro were lovers! But what did it matter? A soiled reputation was not what would keep her from marrying the man she loved. Her parentage was enough for that. She had thought long and hard about all the possible outcomes of the present situation. But she had pushed to the back of her mind the question about marrying Diego.

There hadn't been much said with regards to the future of their relationship that night in the cell. And saving Zorro from a prison term, or worse, had been the main objective since that night. Now that the question appeared to be solved, she needed to think about this. Would Diego really marry her? Would Don Alejandro permit him to do so? Was there already a stain on her reputation that would make it impossible even if their difference in class could be overlooked?

They had done nothing wrong when they were alone together. But just what did the pueblo believe? She thought back to that beautiful bathing room at the hacienda. And immediately, a gloom settled upon her shoulders. There were far many more reasons that such a union could not take place than to support it.

She finished up the dishes and dried her hands. The tavern had settled down for the night. There were only two guests upstairs and very little else to do. The air in the tiny kitchen was hot and humid. Victoria decided she needed a little fresh air so she grabbed her shawl, unlatched the back door and set out for a walk in the moonlight.

As she stepped over some of the rubble left by the men who had helped repair the damaged roof tiles to the tavern, she wondered how the repairs to her neighbors were progressing. So, instead of going around the building to the street, she walked on down behind the row of buildings.

The general store just two doors down had not fared nearly as well. She noted with satisfaction that the back wall had already been repaired and the adjacent storage building was halfway rebuilt. Señor Gomez was a good merchant, very honest and fair. She was pleased to see his business would be able to get back to normal.

She walked a little further and then paused. Thoughts of a certain masked man would not be denied for very long and she could feel them pushing back into her consciousness. She gave a long sigh and began walking again, her head down and her gait slowed.

What was he doing right now? How was he mentally, emotionally? It had been over a week since she'd seen him or talked to him. She had not envisioned that night that it would become so impossible just to see him.

She missed Zorro. But what really surprised her was she missed Diego. She had gone longer periods of time without seeing Zorro. But Diego had been a daily part of her life. Until this week, she had not realized just how big a role he had played in her thoughts. Had she not now known his secret, she would be very confused indeed! Diego was like a solid foundation in her life. She had laughed at and with him, chided him, and argued with him almost every day for the past six years. Losing him left a bigger hole in her life than she would have ever dreamed possible. Why had she been so blind to her feelings for him?

Furtive whispers crept into her thoughts and brought her back to the present. She had walked all the way to the back of the blacksmith's shop and could hear some men talking in low voices and whispers. She immediately turned and started back toward the tavern, embarrassed that she might have intruded on a personal conversation.

But then the urgency in the voices dawned on her. And one of those voices sounded familiar! She crept closer to the back wall of the building and listened intently.

"It will be easy! For the first time, El Zorro is confined and we know exactly where he is! I have waited so long for this. He will pay for the lost years of my life! Tonight he dies." The man uttered a coarse oath. "You worry too much. You know what to do. So do it!"

"Easy for you! You just give the orders! Why don't you come with us?"

"Because if you fail, our back-up plans must not! Now go. And make sure. No witnesses! You got that?"

The familiar voice was crude and rough. The other men had obviously been drinking. Had they been her customers tonight? She bit her lip, trying to place the voice of the one man. _Who was that?_ Whoever it was, there was danger for Zorro and he had to be warned!

As she turned, a hand closed around her mouth and another pinned her against the wall. In seconds, she was bound and gagged and thrown over a man's shoulder. The more she struggled, the rougher she was treated.

"Look what we found! She heard everything. What should we do with her?" A hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.

"She's the Escalante woman! What luck! If Zorro should escape, we'll have a hold on him now! Take her to the camp!"

She was thrown like a sack of potatoes across a saddle and the horse took off at a gallop. Fear closed in upon her. There was no one to save her this time! What would they do to her? And what were they planning for Zorro!

Felipe willed his horse to fly back to the hacienda. After a fast trip to the cave, Felipe entered Zorro's bedroom through the window. There was no time to risk answering questions. Zorro was needed! Unlike Victoria, he had heard the first part of the men's plan. He knew who some of the men were and what they intended to do. He also knew that the only way to save both Victoria and the hacienda and its occupants was to get the news to Zorro as quickly as possible.

"Felipe! What are you doing h—" Diego had tried to impress on the boy of the need for minimum contact with him for the time being and he had complied. So he was surprised to see him come through the window in such haste.

Felipe began signing rapidly.

In minutes, Diego had the idea. There were men, many men, in the pueblo tonight, enemies of Zorro. And they had kidnapped Victoria. Diego reached for the whip that Felipe had retrieved for him. It took a second longer before he reached for the sword and Felipe could see pain in his eyes as he fastened the belt and scabbard to his waist. Prisoner or not, there was no way he could ignore danger to Victoria.

But he felt Felipe pulling at his sleeve. There was more.

"An attack on the hacienda! A fire? Go to Father. Tell him about this. Then help him to get the vaqueros ready. They will need loaded pistols, muskets and get them to draw buckets of water just in case. There are plenty of men around to help defend the house, but Victoria is out there alone. I will be back as soon as I can."

He patted the boy on the shoulder in farewell and leapt from the window onto Tornado's back.

Even with the knowledge of impending danger, Felipe paused to smile as he watched his patrón gallop off into the darkness. He had seen that spark behind Diego's eyes flash! It had been missing for the past week. Resignation had been the only thing he had glimpsed behind those eyes. Now the determination was back. Zorro was back!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Tornado closed the two-mile distance to the pueblo in record time. The tracks behind the blacksmith's were fresh and easy to follow. The light of the full moon was his greatest ally in finding the tracks as he nosed the horse toward the open desert.

The camp was north of the pueblo. Sheltered amid some rock formations, the fire still gave off a glow that could be seen for miles.

Zorro could hear the sound of rushing water off to his left. When he got his bearings, he realized, with a start, just how close this was to the very cave in which he and Victoria had taken shelter. That night seemed like a million years ago!

After he left Tornado a little way from the camp, he eased up to the perimeter of the camp and saw that the men were already preparing to leave. They were giving little thought to their hostage. It appeared they were just going to leave her there while they went off to torch the hacienda.

He waited. He could see the fear in her eyes from where he hid in the shadows, and it twisted his heart in knots. Waiting was not exactly how he wanted to handle the situation, but there were at least a dozen men and he wasn't going to take a chance tonight. He sat through ten long, tense minutes watching the woman he loved tremble in fright.

Finally, they were gone. He waited a few more minutes before emerging from the shadows and going to Victoria.

"Querida, are you hurt?"

Relief washed over her. He removed the cloth from her mouth.

"Di—"

"Zorro!" he corrected her sharply. "I am sorry, but you must remember to address me that way. You never know when someone might overhear. We need to hurry. They plan to attack the de la Vega hacienda and I need to get back there. Felipe should have them well prepared for it, but another pair of hands would help."

He untied her hands and was cutting the ropes that bound her feet when he gasped and jerked his left hand back quickly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" She jumped quickly to her feet, nearly tripping over the rope in the process. Zorro was examining the ground where her feet had been.

"Careful, move over here, quickly." He was already stomping hard down on the patch of ground. "A scorpion. It stung me." The knife's blade flashed in the moonlight, and she watched in horror as he made two cuts on the back of his wrist.

"What are you doing!" She reached to stop him, but he had already begun sucking at the wound. He spat out several mouthfuls before he replied.

"The venom. If I can get most of it out before it spreads..."

"It isn't …deadly, is it? Her voice began to break in fear. "It... won't-"

"Kill me? No, probably not. But it won't make the next 24 hours for me very enjoyable." He gave her a faint smile. He only wished he felt as confident in his prognosis as he had made it sound. The venom of some scorpions was more poisonous than many of the deadliest snakes, but they did inject less venom. "We can't stay here."

"You're bleeding!" The amount of blood alarmed her. The cuts he had made were so deep!

But he ignored her. "Whatever happens at the hacienda, some of the men are bound to return." He thought quickly, trying to ignore the burning sensation that was now traveling a slow line up his arm. "Do you remember the cave we sheltered in during the storm? It is just over on the other side of the stream and back a bit toward the pueblo. I think I can make it that far." He was already beginning to feel strange and he knew he should limit his movements to slow the spread of the venom.

He whistled for Tornado.

She saw Zorro stumble and the picture of the cave flashed into her mind.

"Wait!" If this was as serious as she suspected, she was certainly not going to spend another night in that place without some comforts. Quickly looking around, she spotted a couple of blankets and scooped them up before going back toward the Tornado. With some difficulty, he managed to get them both into the saddle.

The stream, now reduced back to its original size before the recent rains, was fairly easy to cross. Finding the cave was a little more difficult in the dark, but soon, they were leading Tornado to the small sheltered place under the rocks.

Zorro leaned heavily on Victoria to keep his feet and he collapsed with relief just inside the cave. His breathing was ragged and he was shivering violently. The rapid deterioration in his condition was frightening. She spread one of the blankets out on the cave floor, and it was all she could do to get him positioned so that she could move around him freely.

"Diego, I'll be right back." This time there was no protest at the name. She left the cave and went back to Tornado to get the canteen and saddlebag. She filled the canteen from the stream and then began quickly picking up small dry twigs and sticks on her way back to the mouth of the cave.

She could barely make out his form when she entered the cave. Thinking he might have passed out while she was gone, a sudden chill gripped her heart. "Diego?" She felt for him in the dark and was relieved as his hand found hers.

"Yes. I am ..." But he didn't have the breath to finish his sentence.

"Diego, just rest now." The darkness was almost total.

Good idea or not, she was going to make a small fire. There was flint and steel in the saddlebag as she had suspected. In a few minutes, the cave walls reflected a soft warm glow from the small fire. The dryness of the material she had collected would prevent too much smoke, but it also meant there would be little warmth from such a fire. She watched with satisfaction as only tiny swirls of smoke drifted to the ceiling of the cave and found their way toward the entrance. At least, the smoke would not drive them from the cave.

Now that she could see, she turned her full attention to Diego. His eyes were shut and it sounded as if every breath was an effort. His hand was swollen and discolored. She thought for a minute and then began digging out a small hollow in the ground near him. She filled it with the cool water from the canteen and placed his hand in it. The coolness should help the swelling. She only wished there were a bowl handy so she could keep it raised as well.

"Diego? Are you awake?" She wanted him to rest, but he knew more than she did how she could help him.

His eyes fluttered open and he whispered her name. "Yes, I am awake. You... made a fire?"

"Only a small one. If it begins to smoke, I'll put it out. Don't worry. How do you feel? What should I do?" She could see confusion in his eyes. "Will it give you a fever?" She felt helpless and she was already fighting back tears. "I don't know what to do!"

"I am... not... sure." His chest heaved with every word. "It seems to... be affecting... my breathing... more than anything." He placed his right hand on his chest. "It hurts... here."

She bent down and put an ear to his chest and heard his heart beating wildly, not really in a rhythm. Panic gripped her. No, he could not die! Not now!

"I just... need ... to catch... my... bre —" His voice failed as his throat closed in a spasm. His muscles twitched as if he were in the throes of fever.

"No!" Victoria screamed the word and it reverberated off the walls of the cave.

He had to breathe! It was her only thought. And if he could not, then she would breathe for him! She leaned his head back and put her mouth on his. She blew life-giving air into him. Over and over, she continued to force the air into his mouth.

After what seemed an age, his body relaxed and she could feel him stir.

She withdrew her lips from his. His right arm had caught her around the waist and he pulled her back down. Their lips met again. But this time, it was not for life, but for love.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Alejandro and his vaqueros had been ready with ample time. So much so, in fact, he had begun to wonder if Felipe was not mistaken about the whole thing. It was more than two hours before the first sign of trouble arrived.

On the outskirts of the de la Vega lands, the large group of men had been sighted in plenty of time to relay the message to the others. They moved slowly as a group. The torches they brought with them were already lit and would have been a dead giveaway even had the alarm not been given by Felipe earlier.

Alejandro and two others waited just inside the hacienda walls, pistols primed and ready. By the time the mostly drunken men arrived, it was easy for the four vaqueros doubling up behind them to disarm them all.

The whole "attack" took less than ten minutes from start to finish.

"Well done, Felipe!" Alejandro was proud of the boy. He was growing up so fast. It was moments like this when he realized it. "Did you see who one of those men was? None other than Ricardo Quintana! Can they not keep that man in prison! This makes the third time he has come here with no good intent. Mendoza's jails will be full tonight!"

Felipe signed a flurry of questions, most of which went past Alejandro's comprehension. But he did catch the reference to Zorro.

"Yes, you should go check on Zorro. He may not have even noticed this little altercation, since we didn't even have to fire a shot." The boy ran off toward the room as one eager to spread a message.

But when he got there, he curiously set about arranging the bedding into a shape that would give anyone just looking through the door an impression that the occupant was asleep. He didn't know how long it might take Zorro to complete his mission to rescue Victoria, but this would give him until late morning before his absence would be noticed. Not knowing what else to do, he waited until the household had quieted down and then headed for the library and the secret panel. He would wait for his master's return in the cave.

Sergeant Mendoza was doing paperwork when his newest prisoners arrived. He had never envisioned the life of the alcalde as one of paperwork, but that was all he seemed to be doing these days. And he didn't like it. He still did not feel comfortable sitting behind the alcalde's desk, and the room was filled with reminders of the dead man wherever he looked.

"Madre de Dios! What happened?"

"Sergeant, these men were planning to attack the de la Vega hacienda tonight. But we got wind of it and foiled the attack. Most have been celebrating a bit too much this evening, so it was fairly easy. But look at this one! Do you recognize him?"

"Sí, it is Señor Quintana! I just received a new poster yesterday about his escape! But where am I going to put all these prisoners? Madre de Dios! The outside jails are full and now, these will fill up the inside cells as well!"

"But isn't it better, good sergeant, that men such as these are inside the jails and not on the outside?" Juan laughed at the wailing sergeant.

"And the judge coming too! Aye! What is he to think of all this?"

"He will think, Sergeant, that the new Alcalde of Los Angeles does not tolerate crime! I think you should look at some of your other wanted posters. I believe a few of these other faces might be on one as well. They're a sorry lot!" Juan joined his fellow vaqueros and mounted his horse. "Good evening, Sergeant!"

But Mendoza just groaned. He went back into the office now alive with the sounds of grousing and grumbling from the back room cells. The former alcalde never had to deal with this many people in his jail at one time. It was just a good thing Zorro was no longer here. There wouldn't be room for him!

He walked over and sat behind the desk. The noise from the back room died down a little, and once again he started getting that old feeling that someone was watching him! It always happened in this room.

He looked about the room and saw the painting of Machiavelli still hanging on the wall. That was it! That painting! It had always given him a strange feeling. Well, there was no reason to keep it hanging there. De Soto was dead. The painting could go too!

He moved the chair over next to the wall and climbed up to take down the painting. As he lifted it up off the peg and set it down on the floor, he saw a curious thing. There, just below the peg, was a round hole in the adobe wall. And there was something in the hole. He grabbed his knife and poked the blade into the hole. _What is that?_ he thought.

When he withdrew the blade, it brought with it a rolled-up piece of parchment. Shaking, with thoughts of secret treasure maps swirling through his mind, he slowly unrolled the parchment.

It was an official document from the Spanish Court signed by the King of Spain himself! The seal and signature at the bottom was unmistakable. He began reading the flowery words at the beginning with interest, and, after the first few lines, he nearly fell off the chair in his surprise.

"Madre de Dios! It is a decree of amnesty for Zorro!" he said aloud.

But how could this be! He took the precaution of getting off the chair before reading any further. Yes, it was definitely a legal decree granting "amnesty for any and all past and future crimes for the said criminal known as Zorro"! And it was signed by the King...he searched for the date... The document had been signed three years ago!

Three years ago? Mendoza looked back up at the hole in the wall and then back down at the impressive document in his hands. The alcalde had hidden this! Zorro could have been a free man for the past three years and the alcalde had ...

New anger at his late commanding officer welled up inside of him. And then the thought slammed into his brain. This would release Zorro from the charges of killing the alcalde! There wouldn't even have to be a trial!

A wave of happiness for his friend washed over Mendoza. He would ride out to the hacienda tonight... No, he couldn't do that. His jails were full. It wouldn't be a wise thing to do tonight. But in the morning, he couldn't wait to see the look on the face of that lawyer from Monterey!

His mind was sleeping, but his body was restless. His muscles twitched incessantly and she could practically see the poison course through him. Tiny groans escaped his lips as he fought for his life as he slumbered. She had done all that she could for him, for now.

She had removed the mask as he slept and she held it in her hands, contemplating it. This thing had been between them for so long. This simple black piece of cloth had become a symbol for so much. With its help, the man before her had single-handedly saved lives and given hope to so many. But it had kept her from knowing the man and sharing his life. It was this mask that had condemned her to living all these years alone, sharing only fleeting moments with the man she loved.

She clutched it angrily as she watched his chest rise and fall. At least, for now, his breathing had eased. She was daring to hope that he would indeed survive this. His constitution was strong. She knew that. He was the strongest man she had ever known. He had to live!

Her knuckles were white as she dug her nails into the black satin. At one time, she would have been thinking that he had to live to continue his fight for justice. He had to live to continue to give hope to the people. But was that what she now believed? The alcalde was dead. Things would be different now. There might not be a need for Zorro, for the mask. A glimmer of hope began to grow behind her eyes.

If only he could stop being Zorro. If only he could just be Diego. Then there would be some hope for the two of them together. If there were no Zorro...

And then, there intruded into her mind the picture of that room at the hacienda. The differences in their class came rushing back to her anew. No, it wasn't only the mask that would keep them apart. The tears that had gone unshed throughout the past few hours now came in a flood. She buried her face in the black cloth and sobbed aloud.

"Victoria?" His voice was weak but the hand that reached out to hers still bore some strength. "Victoria, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Diego, you're awake! She wiped the tears away as she spoke. "How do you fe-"

He interrupted her and raised himself up to peer into her face. "Victoria, you were crying. I want to know why." His words were soft and caring and she turned her head away from him before he could see the fresh tears well up in her eyes. "Oh, Querrida." He sighed as he pulled her close, and she buried her face in his chest as she let the tears flow. For several minutes, he held her and let her cry. And then, he took the mask from her and dried her tears with it. He repeated his words. This time, they were more of a command. "I want to know why."

"I was so worried," she began. "You could have died..." He was looking into her eyes so intently she had to look away. Even in the firelight, she felt he could see to the depths of her soul.

"No, that is not it. I told you that this wouldn't kill me and you usually believe what I tell you. I want to know the truth. Tell me. Why were you crying?" He turned her face once more to his.

"Diego, it's... I don't know how to tell you...I don't know how to ask you...Oh, why did you have to be you!" She slapped at his chest and he caught her hand in his.

"Then you are disappointed. I was afraid of this. I —"

"No, not disappointed. No! But, Diego, you're a caballero!" Her voice broke on the word, but she continued, getting louder with each point. "And not just any caballero. No, you have to be a de la Vega!"

He sank back against the rock, his hand on his brow. His head ached from the poison still in his veins and from trying to make sense of what she was saying. "Victoria." He spoke with closed eyes, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't understand..."

But Victoria had not noticed and she had finally found the anger that she'd hidden within herself. "How could you propose to me! How could you give me that hope! You didn't have to —"

"I didn't have to what?" He didn't think he could be any more confused than he already was.

"You didn't have to pretend that there could be a future for us!" There, she had said it. But she finished with a simple statement. "I would have loved you anyway." She lifted her chin to him, defiantly.

"Victoria. My mind is a shade foggy at the moment." This was important. He had to stay focused. "But are you telling me that you don't think I was serious when I proposed?"

She nodded silently, bitterly.

"Victoria, I gave you my mother's ring. I have meant every word I have ever said to you. Why would I not?"

"But you're a caballero!" She said the words louder than she had meant and he winced at the sound.

"Yes, you said that before." He shook his head slightly in an effort to clear his thoughts, but he was only rewarded with dizziness. It was a struggle to keep speaking but he knew this was important to her. "But what has that got to do with anything?"

Her mouth fell open in astonishment. Did he really not understand! "Diego, if you think, that for one minute, your father would permit a marriage between his only son and heir and someone like me, then you—"

"Permit!" Diego broke out in weak laughter at the word. "Victoria, is that what this is all about!" He drew her into his arms, relief releasing the clouds from his mind. "Querida, mi preciosa!" he whispered into her hair, "you worry about a problem that does not exist!" He gave her an assuring squeeze with his waning strength. "My father would only be too happy to have me marry 'someone like' you." His voice was fading as he continued, "You do yourself... such... injustice!"

"Diego!" She pulled away, alarmed at the way his voice had begun to trail away to a whisper.

"Oh, Querida, I... love... you."

"Diego, hush! You must save your str—"

"No, this...is ...important. Can you not... see?" She held his hand and began wiping the beading sweat from his forehead with the mask. "Oh, I know... ten... twenty years ago...such things... may have made... more of a difference. But now... new world..." he stopped talking for many seconds and, for a moment, she thought he had passed out once more. But then he took a deep, difficult breath and spoke again. "I could even argue... a few points with you... about your... family. But I will not... only thing ... truly matters... is the love ..." His hand went limp in hers.

The effort of the conversation had taken its toll on him. His breathing had become ragged again. She could feel his heart beating erratically once more in his chest. The venom had not run its course. But whatever else happened, she was glad she now knew where she stood with him. Her heart was a little lighter. The future was not as dark. She would pull him through this. He would escape the gallows. And she would have him for her husband. Of that, she was certain. There was only one problem. The mask that she still held in her hands. That hateful piece of black satin she had once so revered.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Felipe awoke with a start. Zorro had not returned! The clock read 5:07, and it was well past the time for Zorro to have returned. The kidnappers had been jailed. He should have met with little resistance. What could have happened?

It took only a few minutes of questioning himself before Felipe set out for the stables. He had stopped long enough to gather a few supplies that might be needed: bandages and ointments, a blanket and a pistol. He didn't know what to take, but he knew he needed to be prepared for anything. _Please, God, don't let any of it be needed! _

He rode back to town to see if he could pick up the trail he knew Zorro would have followed.

Zorro had taught him well, for he picked up the trail easily and only had to backtrack a few times before picking it up again. The sun was threatening to rise as he found the remains of the deserted camp. It took him a little longer to pick up Tornado's trail leaving the camp. But the trail began to make sense as he realized he was near the Indian cave Diego had once shown him.

Victoria's hands continued to pull at the black silk. It was this, this mask, that had kept them apart. And there was now no need for it. Those men had come to the pueblo for only one reason - to seek out Zorro and kill him. And there would always be more. He had made many enemies. Now, it would be his very presence that would draw lawlessness to Los Angeles.

Los Angeles. And just where were the people of Los Angeles tonight? Their hero could be dying this very night, and she would be the only person to witness his death. The only person that loved him with a passion so deep, so lasting... _Oh, __Madre de Dios__, what if he dies tonight! _

_What if he dies tonight?_ The question burned into her mind. She listened to his rapid, shallow breathing. She felt his brow and placed a hand over his heart. The beating was still irregular, but it was strong. No, he was putting up a good fight. He would survive. But he could have died!

What would happen if he died tonight? Her mind raced through the possibilities. Zorro would pass over into legend. His deeds would be like those of heroes of the past. A hundred years from now, people would wonder if he had ever really lived. The stories of his life might be embellished and even remembered in song. History would know him only as Zorro. Not as Diego.

But if Zorro died tonight, Diego could begin to really live. He would no longer have to live a double life. He could marry her and they could begin their lives together, have children. Would that be enough for him? Would he ever be able to voluntarily give up the masquerade he had begun? Or should the choice be left solely up to him? His sense of duty was all encompassing. His unselfishness knew no bounds. But could he truly be the wisest judge of when to end the charade?

And in one breadth of a second, her decision was made. Zorro would die tonight so that Diego might live.

She began gently tugging at the cape that lay partly underneath him. A half-formed plan had taken shape in her mind. And for it to be successful, she would need his clothes. She took the cape and laid it out on the ground beside her. Then she began to unbutton the front of his shirt. It wasn't until she had undone the last button that the reality of what she was doing descended upon her.

A spark of excitement began to grow at the base of her spine as she opened the front of the shirt and beheld him. A small gasp escaped her lips as she looked at his finely muscled, bare chest. Her excitement was replaced by surprise.

Scars! There were scars here that a caballero should not have. A map of sacrifice lay before her. How often must Zorro have been hurt and she had never even known! At least two of the healed wounds were probably from musket balls. And several saber cuts adorned his flesh as well.

She swiped at the tears before they could fall. If anything, the proof of past wounds firmed her resolve to go through with her plan.

She unbuckled his belt and pulled, slipping it through the loops, and soon it was added to the small pile of clothes. Then embarrassment and modesty took over, and she could not go further. If black pants were needed for the masquerade, then someone else would have to supply them!

Before long, she had gathered the black garments in a pile along with his sword and hat. She looked back at the sleeping man with a sense of wonder at what she had already done.

It was then that she heard the shrill whistle.

Tornado neighed softly in answer and she froze.

There it was again.

And then she relaxed. Of course, it was Felipe! She peeked out the cave's opening and was indeed rewarded with the sight of Felipe scrambling up the rocks toward the mouth of the cave.

"Felipe! He's here!" She reached for the blanket he carried underneath his arm before he had even straightened up from the climb. Before his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she had covered Diego's sleeping form and was tucking in the edges of the blanket around him carefully. "He was stung by a scorpion. He's had some trouble breathing and I don't like the way his heart is beating, but I don't think we should move him."

Felipe was examining the wound already and had begun to take out an assortment of ointments and bandages. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. He had expected a gunshot wound, but a scorpion sting was more of an unknown. He could treat the wound, but the venom would just have to run its course. The wound itself was ugly enough. Diego's own cuts into the flesh were deep. And the entire hand was now swollen and turning a bluish color.

Victoria watched him work and wondered just how much he had understood her. There was little light from the small fire and it would be difficult for him to read her lips in the dimness. But a new respect for the young man grew as she watched him tend to the wound. How often must he have done a similar service for his master! The healed scars she had seen were a testament to Felipe's healing skills.

"Felipe." She placed a hand on his arm to get his attention. "I need to borrow your horse. You will stay with him while I am gone for a little while?"

He nodded and returned his attention to fastening the bandage. His back was to her as she gathered the bundle of clothing and left the cave.

She urged the horse faster as the sun began to rise in the sky. She had already decided that it would be Don Sebastian that she would ask for help. It was he who had been the most vocal on Zorro's side outside the jail, and his hacienda was conveniently located on this side of the pueblo.

The hacienda was already coming slowly to life in the early morning hour as she reined in the horse before the front gate. She brought her bundle with her as she was led into the sala to await the patrón of the house.

"Señorita Escalante! What calls you to my hacienda this fine morning." His words were cheerful, but there was a look of concern in his eyes. This young señorita would never be here if there weren't trouble brewing. Her relationship with Zorro was widely known, and his eyes lit in alarm on the black silk cloth bundle she carried in her arms. His face turned serious and he asked solemnly, "How can I help?"

"Don Sebastian!" She looked furtively toward the doorway, wondering if his servants were wont to eavesdrop.

"Put your mind at rest. We will not be overheard. What has happened?" His strong male presence was calming.

"I came to you because I heard you speak for Zorro at the jail that night. I need your help."

"And that you have. Just tell me what it is I need to do."

"These are Zorro's things." She held out the clothes to him and the words came out in a rush. "I want you to help me convince the pueblo that he is dead."

"He isn't..." Don Sebastian's eyes widened.

"No. No, he is ... hurt. But if we can..." She realized what a weak case she was making as she began.

"If we can convince everyone he is dead, he will escape the gallows. Yes, I see. Does he agree to this?"

"He doesn't know. He...can't make such a decision right now." She was beginning to wish she had never come. How could she do this! Was she doing the right thing? It had seemed so before, but now…

But Don Sebastian had taken the bundle and was already agreeing. "Yes, I see. I see everything." He put an arm around the girl's shoulders and urged her gently towards the door. "You will leave everything to me. I will take care of it." He pulled the sword from the mass of black silk. "But this. Return it to him. He will want to keep this." He wrapped her fingers around the hilt. "Now, you should get back to him. Does he need anything? I owe him my very life. Anything I have is yours for the asking."

But her head was spinning. The magnitude of what she had just done was beginning to settle upon her. She had to get away, and she had to get back to Diego. The wheels were in motion and now they would grind away without her help. She left with her whole being was now focused on getting back to Diego. For he was now only Diego. Her Diego.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Felipe! I want you to go back to the hacienda. Get Diego some of his clothes. When he is well enough to travel, he will have to return there as Diego. Do you understand?"

Felipe nodded and signed something about food. Food! She had not even given a thought to food. But he was right. She probably needed to get something down Diego. Perhaps he would feel better when he awoke this time.

"Yes, bring something for Diego. Perhaps some soup, something light. And another blanket." She had already seen the first signs of fever. His forehead was now clammy and his color was not what it was. She briefly wondered if Felipe should also bring Dr. Hernandez, but she dismissed the thought quickly. There was no use involving the doctor at this point. The proximity to the camp might call Zorro to mind. And she hadn't quite worked out just how and when Diego should return from San Pedro, not to mention that it might be going against any plans Don Sebastian might be making at the very moment.

After Felipe had gone, she went to gather some more dry wood for the dwindling fire. There was now a bitter chill in the air inside the cave and that was one thing Diego didn't need. She watched the small plume of smoke rise and trail along the roof of the cave. Yes, it would be fine. But she would have to be cautious. She couldn't afford any buildup of smoke with Diego already having such difficulty breathing.

After assuring herself that he was breathing steadily and covered up as well as she could manage, she settled down beside him and slept.

The low groan roused her from slumber. She saw immediately that Diego was burning up with fever.

Sergeant Jaime Mendoza was smiling for the first time in, what was it, a week? The morning air was crisp and decidedly cooler than normal for this time of year. That alone would be reason enough for a lighter mood, but he had an even better one. He was to be the bearer of good news. And what news he had!

He tethered his horse just outside the gates of the de la Vega hacienda. Before he could even get to the door, Don Alejandro came out to greet him.

"Sergeant! How good of you to come. You have those men from last night safely locked up, I trust?"

"Sí, sí, Don Alejandro. They are all nicely taken care of. But that is not why I am here. You will never guess what I have found! Is your friend, Señor Olvera, still here? He will be interested in my news as well!"

"Of course, we were just finishing breakfast. Come in! Come in!"

After Señor Olvera and the sergeant exchanged greetings, Don Alejandro, noting the unabashed look of desire for the food spread on the table on the sergeant's face, asked Mendoza to join them.

"Gracias! Don Alejandro! This looks so...so ...!" But his words were lost as he sat down and shoved the first tasty morsel into his mouth.

Don Alejandro smiled at the Sergeant's complete childlike enjoyment of food. He almost hated to bring the man's attention back to his own reason for coming to the hacienda this morning. "Sergeant, or should I address you as 'Alcalde'?" Don Alejandro paused for an answer.

Mendoza gulped down a sizable mouthful to answer. "Sí, I fear I am the alcalde now, and it is rather sad in some ways." Then he flashed a bright smile toward the two men. "But today I bear great news! Look! Look here!" He pulled out the paper from his jacket and handed it to Alejandro. "I found this hidden in a wall in the alcalde's office. See, it is signed by the King himself!"

Don Alejandro sat down slowly as he read the document. "Ricardo, this seems to be a decree of amnesty for Zorro!" He handed the paper to his friend and legal counsel.

"Hmm. This is interesting." Olvera stroked his chin as he read. "It certainly looks genuine. The watermark looks to be, as well. I've seen the King's signature many times...I would swear this is...Sergeant, where did you say you found this?"

"Hidden in a little carved-out niche in the wall behind that awful painting the alcalde liked so much. You know the one, Don Alejandro. The one that is real dark and —"

"Do you mean to tell me that this has been purposefully hidden for three years! The date on this is unmistakable. The more I learn of your late alcalde, the less I care for the man. Hiding a document such as this was a criminal act! Alejandro, this means Zorro has been, essentially, a free man for the past three years. And there's a phrase in here, although I admit it would normally trouble me if I had not met the subject of this decree... this phrase, "any and all past and future crimes", well, I've never seen such a thing in my entire career. The implications are ..." He stopped and held the paper up to the light to inspect the signature a little more closely.

"But if it's the King's signature. He, by rights, can put any wording in a decree that he likes, can he not?" Hope was beginning to take root in Alejandro's heart that this document was real.

"Yes, he can. But why would he do this? And why three years ago? A judge will ask these questions."

Don Alejandro looked thoughtfully out the window. He knew the answers. But he could only answer with partial truth. "I think I can explain." Both Mendoza and Olvera turned to him expectantly.

"It was a little more than three years ago that I hired a special messenger to make the long voyage to Madrid to deliver a personal request of His Majesty. I asked for this as a personal favor. It was no mean feat, I can tell you, to get around the alcalde's network of spies and cohorts. I had tried twice before, and he had intercepted my messenger each time before he had left the shores of California. When no word came from Madrid, I assumed this messenger had not gotten through either or ... that my request had not been granted. I have had little contact with my old friend in so many years. We are so far away..."

"But Zorro has ridden for some eight years now. Why did you make your request at that time?" Olvera could see his friend's hesitancy in answering.

"It just seemed like something had to be done. De Soto was obsessed with capturing Zorro. And Zorro was never a criminal! Without his interventions in the plans of two evil alcaldes, justice would be a stranger in this pueblo. This paper gladdens my heart that the King thought so much of our friendship that he complied with my request in such a way." Don Alejandro was obviously moved. "But, gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I think there is someone who should hear about this right now!"

"Yes, this will be welcome news for Zor—" But Alejandro was already half way down the hallway toward his room.

He flung the door open without even knocking and went straight to the bedside to rouse the sleeping man. He pulled back the covers, and immediately his heart sank, and confusion reigned in his mind. Where was he? He looked toward the open window. After promising not to attempt escape, Zorro would never have left without good reason. The attack last night! It must have something to do with that. Had the vaqueros missed something? Oh, God, was he lying out there somewhere hurt?

Don Alejandro straightened and exhaled deeply. He shut the door softly behind him and traced his steps back down the long hallway.

"Gentlemen. I have reconsidered. Perhaps we should not tell Zorro of this before we make absolutely sure of this document's authenticity. I would not like to be responsible for causing false hopes..."

"Yes, you may be right. I, myself, would feel much more confident about this after comparing it with some known samples. I trust you have some Royal documents on file at your office, Sergeant. And, Alejandro, you surely have some letters or —"

"Yes, of course I do. I'll get them now. Sergeant, could you —"

"Sí, sí, I will fetch them right away." Mendoza was disappointed. He had wanted to see Zorro's face when he heard the news. Maybe even his whole face! For there would be no reason for the mask once amnesty was granted. He would be free. Everyone would finally know who the masked man really was.

Don Sebastian sat behind his large mahogany desk, his hands pressed together as a steeple while he planned. How was he to accomplish his task? A mass of black silk lay in a heap before him, but it was not offering him any inspiration.

His eyes narrowed in concentration. There would have to be multiple witnesses to such a death, especially since there would be no body. The clothing could help establish the man's presence... but just how...? Yes, he had it. It would require some sacrifice to himself, but what was that compared to what Zorro had done for him in the past and for what he had done for all of Los Angeles!

He would wait until just before dark. It would have to be light enough for witnesses to see him, but not bright enough for him to be recognized. He was not quite as tall as Zorro, but he might pass for him at a distance.

From what the señorita had said, Don Sebastian had to assume that Zorro was no longer in residence at the de la Vega hacienda. A small seed of worry had settled in the back of his mind at this, for Zorro had given his word not to attempt escape. But could a man like him forfeit his very life to keep that kind of bond? From what he knew of the character of the outlaw, he would choose to believe that there was good reason Zorro had left and was now lying somewhere hurt in need of his assistance.

He got up from the chair with a new air of determination, intent on issuing all the orders to his vaqueros that it would take to prepare for the death of Zorro.

It seemed like hours since Victoria had sent Felipe back to the hacienda.

Diego had drifted into a deep sleep. She thought she needed to keep him warm, but his skin was warm to the touch. It was hard to know what to do for him. She dipped a cloth bandage in cool water and bathed his forehead. She did the same for his hand. His breathing did seem easier and his heart no longer had that erratic beat.

"Victoria?" He had stirred once more.

"Diego! You're awake! How do you —"

"I am fine. You can take that worried look off your face. I do not plan on dying on you." His eyes were clear and his voice was strong. "What time is it?" He ran his fingers through his hair and struggled to sit upright.

"I'm not sure. Sometime before noon, I should think. Do you really feel better?"

"Yes, much." He smiled and nodded. Then a puzzled look crossed his face. "My hand is numb but, I... uh...I...Victoria, where's my shirt?"

"Oh, Diego, it... well, you were feverish...I ...it was damp..."

"Oh." He paused, trying to gauge her embarrassment. "But surely, it is dry by now." He looked about the small space. There was no evidence of his other things as well. "Where is it?"

"I took them outside. Felipe is bringing you some clothes. We thought it best for you to come back as Diego. No one saw Zorro get stung but me. You can say it was Diego."

"No, that won't work." He was shaking his head slowly. "Have you forgotten I am under house arrest? And I promised that I would not escape. I need to get back before they discover I am gone, if I can."

"But you can't—"

He knew her well enough that he could see she was hiding something from him. "Victoria, I need my clothes. I cannot very well ride about the countryside like this, now can I? Just get them. Please." Reading the emotions as they played across her face, he asked, "Victoria, what is going on that I do not know about?"

"Your clothes. They're not here."

Diego just stared at her.

"I took them."

Diego found it hard not to laugh outright, but he managed to keep a straight face, though his eyes danced with devilment. "So, do you plan to ...uh...keep me here to have your way with me?"

"Oh, Diego! Such talk!"

"Well, if it is not something like that, I am at a loss as to what —"

A shrill whistle caught his attention. "That's Felipe!"

A few short minutes later, the boy made a noisy entrance into the cave. At the sight of Diego, sitting up, awake and clear-eyed, Felipe broke into a huge grin. He put down his bundle of supplies and clothing and began signing questions.

"Yes, yes, much better." He followed Felipe's signs for a moment and then said, "Do you think Zorro's been missed yet?"

Felipe nodded "no" and Diego continued, "Then help me up. I need to get back there before they find me gone. Now, Victoria, about my clothes..."

"But you've been gone as Diego for over a wee—"

"And Diego must be gone for a while longer. I have to go back as Zorro, Victoria. Don't you see that?"

"But—"

"But what? What have you done, Victoria?" The voice that had been laced with amusement quickly switched to total seriousness. "What have you done?" The question was a command.

She dropped her eyes before his stare and said very timidly, "I took your clothes to Don Sebastian. He's going to kill Zorro for me. For us! I know it was a drastic thing to do, but —"

"Kill Zorro!" Diego digested this slowly. "You mean he is going to fake his...no, _my_ death!" He let out a long slow breath. "You didn't think about discussing this with me first?" He turned away from her then.

"Diego, I thought —" A sick feeling was beginning to fill the pit of her stomach. She had to make him understand. "Please—"

"We will discuss this later. Right now, there is the question of how I am to get back. Felipe, what clothes did you bring? Let me see what we can do."

She felt him shut her out then and she retreated to the back of the cave. Her sense of guilt was overwhelming. Only one refrain kept repeating through her mind. "_What have I done!_"

The two men prepared the return to the hacienda like a military assault, carefully trying to think through all the possible problems that might arise. Felipe would go first to the secret cave to fetch another mask and shirt. It was now late afternoon and the sun was bright. With all the vaqueros on alert since the assault of the night before, it was not going to be easy for Diego to slip back into the hacienda. Without addressing her, they decided that she would return to the pueblo alone.

Diego had barely made it through the window in time when the door to the room flew open and his father entered.

"Don Alejandro! Buenas Tardes."

"Thank God you're back. Mendoza's just returned and they want to discuss the document with you. Come!"

"You knew I was gone? I —" A wave of dizziness overcame him and he swayed on his feet.

"Yes, but no one else knows." The older man was across the room in three strides. "What on earth? You're hurt!" He managed to get the larger man over to the bed. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I...it is nothing. I just..." The ride had just taken too much out of him. He shook his head in an effort to clear it. "I will be fine. I —"

"What is it? You don't look so good, Son."

An alarm sounded in the recesses of Zorro's mind. The endearment meant nothing. His father had called Zorro that once before in a moment of sympathy. But right now, he could not confide in the man about the wound on his hand. A black glove covered it for now, though it had had to be cut and hung loosely to allow for the swelling. Gloves were a part of Zorro's persona. Later Diego would not be able to wear gloves for extended periods of time. "I am fine," he repeated. "Now what's this about a document?"

"You will have to see it to believe it! If you think you can —"

"Very well." He forced a confident tone into his voice. "Shall we join them?"

When Zorro entered the library, Señor Olvera rose out of respect and Mendoza bowed in his usually slightly flustered way. The good sergeant had never lost that feeling of awe for the masked man in all the years he had known him. Indeed, it would be hard for anyone not to be a little intimidated by the tall man in such an impressive costume.

"Señor Zorro, I believe we have some good news for you."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

As the sun sank low on the horizon, Don Sebastian had set his plan in motion. His vaqueros were all busy with chores on the other side of the hacienda by design. Earlier, he had issued firm orders that every saddle was to be given a good saddle soaping and every bridle was to be polished. The vaqueros had been provided with a nice variety of refreshments under shade trees on the opposite side of the house. Most had chosen, as he knew they would, to take their work there rather than work in the confines of the stables. He had taken the horses from his stables, one by one, into the adjacent corral. The building was now mostly cleared of its valuable contents.

Now he set about creating his own customized firetrap. Allowing for a specific escape route, he scattered lamp oil on straw scattered along pre-determined lines through the stables. His eyes kept a close watch on the ever-darkening horizon. Making sure that no one would have a chance to enter after him was the hardest part, so most of his efforts had been put into this. Straw and dry wood was heaped all around the entrance and at the windows. Surely it would make a wall of fire quickly.

Through the window, he saw the sun dip down low, leaving only a thin crescent peeping over the earth's edge, and he knew it was time. He looked about him one last tim, and then he began lighting his fire. He ran swiftly across the yard to the stash of clothing and began to change quickly. He could already smell the smoke. He had just finished adjusting the mask in place when he heard someone shout an alarm of "Fire!"

The vaqueros were coming around from the side of the hacienda as he made a show of flinging the cape and hat to the ground, preparing to rush inside. He shouted, "Stay back! I'll get the horses out!" Hoping silently that the shouting itself would disguise his voice enough to pass for Zorro's, he waved them to stop and he entered the burning building.

The smoke was thicker than he'd expected. As he ran through to the back, he helped the fire's destructive nature by knocking over even more of the bottles of lamp oil he'd previously placed throughout the path. The fire burned fast and furiously, and by the time he reached the rear door he had chosen for his escape, he had shed the last of the black clothing and was now dressed as Don Sebastian once more.

He ran around to the front of the burning stables. Many of the men were already throwing buckets of water at the blaze and some had even dipped bandannas in the water in preparation of trying to get inside to see what they could do. Flames licked out through every opening in the wood and the smoke was thick in the air.

"No, no, you mustn't! I will not have any of you risk your lives!"

"But, Sir! Zorro is in there."

Confusion reigned, as he had known it would. Vaqueros were yelling to one another. Everyone seemed to be running about shouting.

"Sir! He hasn't come out!"

Another man shouted, "He must've gotten the horses out. But I don't see him anywhere!"

The flames leapt higher.

"I am ordering you all! Do not go in there!" he shouted to his men. When he turned and saw their horrified faces, his words softened. "Perhaps he got out on the other side." And it was at that point that a large part of the roof caved in, sending sparks flying high.

One lone vaquero shook his head. "I don't see how, Don Sebastian. I don't see how."

The building burned. A solemn stillness settled on the watching crowd. They knew a hero had died.

But the black satin clad form of the hero was, at that moment, sitting elegantly on a brocade-covered love seat in the de la Vega hacienda. His eyes perusing the parchment signed by His most Catholic Majesty, the King of Spain.

"This is incredible," he said simply. "Why do you think the King would sign such a document?" He looked not at the lawyer but at Don Alejandro for an answer.

"I requested it for you, it is true. I had always thought it strange that my letters to Spain had never brought any results. The close friendship that has always existed between the de la Vegas and the royal family...well... I would think the King would trust my judgment enough to do this. I am just grateful that apparently one of my entreaties to the King made it past the alcalde and actually reached Spain."

"I thank you for this, Don Alejandro. Whatever happens, it is good to know that my slate has been cleaned. But, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I will leave the details of all this in your capable hands. Your expertise in such matters clearly exceeds mine, Señor Olvera. Con Permiso!" And with the salutation, Zorro abruptly left the room.

"Whatever happens'! What did he mean by that?" Sergeant Mendoza was the first to speak. "Doesn't he know what this means? He's free! I thought he'd be...happy!"

"He did seem to be in a rather dismal mood." Olvera stared at the floor.

Don Alejandro suspected Zorro's health, more than his mood, to be the reason for his behavior and he made excuses. "Gentlemen, you know how hard he took the death of the alcalde. I don't think he has come to terms with his part in the death yet on a personal level. Why don't I go talk to him. Will you excuse me?"

He found the young man face down across the bed.

"Zorro, are you awake?"

"Barely," came the whispered response. "I'm sorry, but I felt so..."

"Do you have a wound that needs tending?" Don Alejandro hovered.

"No, I just ... maybe it was something I ate...I..."

"Now, why don't I believe that?" Alejandro reached for a booted foot. Within minutes, before Zorro could manage to object, he was also reaching for his hands to pull off the gloves. He meant to ready the man properly for bed and to find the wound he knew existed. The right glove slipped off easily, but a tug on the left glove elicited a gasp from the prostrate man.

"Ahh, so this is it!" Alejandro kept a firm grasp on the hand and slowly peeled the glove from the hand. He could see the cuts in the leather that had been made and knew that the hand would be swollen before he actually saw it. But when he removed the soiled bandage, the discoloration was a shock. "Snakebite!" He shook his head in despair.

"Scorpion," came the voice from the bed.

"How long has it been?" Alejandro set about washing the hand with cool water from the pitcher on the stand.

"Almost a day. The worst is over. I will be fine."

"Yes, you will. But I'm sure you are not doing 'fine' at just this minute. I'll send Maria to you with —"

"Not some of that nasty medic—" Zorro stopped in mid protest. How could he slip like that! But his head was throbbing and his mind clouded. It was so hard to think clearly. Maybe his father hadn't noticed.

"Yes, exactly." If Alejandro had noticed, he made no sign of it. "Some of that nasty medicine! It will ensure that you get some good rest. By tomorrow, you'll be doing better. I'm going to leave it un-bandaged for now. The cuts have closed nicely. Tell me, where did you go last night? Were you out there helping us with that ill-conceived 'attack' on the hacienda?"

"No, they had Victoria. I had to—"

"Is she all right?"

"Yes, it was she who ended up rescuing me."

"A wonderful girl! Now that you are a free man, you will be able to keep your promise to her."

"Hmm. But there may be complications."

"Complications?" Alejandro sensed something wrong here. But it was clear the young man was not up to talking. "Well, I'll send Maria. Do you think you could eat something? I suspect you haven't had anything today."

But there was no answer. Zorro was now nicely tucked in bed for the night. Alejandro couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Well, I guess you escaped that nasty medicine for right now," he whispered to the sleeping man. "But I'll be back later tonight and give you a dose. Sleep is the best thing for you right now and you're going to have it whether you like it or not!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Zorro was dead!

The news spread faster than the fire that had destroyed Don Sebastian's stables. By mid-morning the next day, everyone in the pueblo was talking about the unbelievable news. Half of those that heard it said it couldn't be so! But the ones that accepted the news as true began preparing for the saddest, but grandest, farewell to their hero.

Sergeant Mendoza rode out to the de la Vega hacienda once again to deliver the sad news. It was hard to believe that, only just hours before, he had sat in a room with Zorro and celebrated the news of his amnesty! Now he was dead. Life was just not fair!

Don Alejandro greeted him at the doorway and reacted with such shock to the news that he didn't even invite the sergeant inside! He mumbled something about Señor Olvera having left for Monterey early in the morning to submit the document to the Governor's Privy Council. Mendoza stared at the closed door for a few minutes before heading back to the pueblo. He felt more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

But on the other side of that door, Alejandro had sprung into action. He ran down the hallway and burst through the door to Zorro's room. He was still sleeping soundly and Felipe sleeping in the chair beside the bed.

"Felipe!" He shook the boy's shoulders. "Help me get him to Diego's room. Something's happened. He can't be found here. Hurry!"

Thankfully Diego's room was only two doors down the hall. The drugged, sleeping man was dead weight for the two to carry, and they heaved a sigh of relief as they laid him on the bed in Diego's room.

Felipe was wondering the reason for it all. Then his mouth fell open when he saw Alejandro reach for the mask, pull it away and stuff it in a drawer. There was no hint of surprise on Alejandro's face and Felipe's eyes grew wide.

"Felipe, get one of his nightshirts from the wardrobe. Hurry! We also need to make the bed in the other room and remove all traces that he was there last night. We need to act as if he left yesterday immediately after the meeting with Mendoza and Ricardo."

For the first time, he saw the confusion on Felipe's face and he grabbed the lad's shoulders. "Felipe, Mendoza just came with the word that Zorro is dead! I'm not sure of all the details, but the sergeant is convinced of it. He says they're already planning a memorial service. The pueblo believes Zorro is dead!"

Felipe pointed to the bed and then to Alejandro's forehead, as if to ask, "You knew?"

"Yes, I've known for some time. And this may be the best thing that's happened for him. Even better than that document of amnesty! This will be the real freedom he needs. We will have to get our stories straight. We'll say that Diego arrived late last night, after everyone was in bed. The scorpion sting can be the excuse for his having been gone so long. Wait! What about Victoria! Does she know?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. We'll have to refine all this as we go. But it's a good start. Felipe…"

The boy looked overwhelmed by it all.

"He is probably not going to like this when he wakes up, but he'll understand when he thinks it through. I gave him some of that sleeping draught of Maria's late last night. He'll probably sleep until midday." He patted the boy on the back. "Now go! See to the other room for me. I need to talk to the servants then head to town to see Victoria."

Maria and the other servants were happy hearing that the young Don had returned, but the news about Zorro cast a pall over the entire household. Maria set about preparing a special meal for the young master with tears in her eyes. Zorro dead! It was an impossible thought.

When Don Alejandro reached the pueblo, he saw the further effects of the news there. Everywhere he looked, heads were bowed and faces were long. Most of the women were either openly crying or looked as if they had been. He was beginning to wish he had not embraced the news himself so selfishly.

Inside the tavern, Victoria's girls were serving the customers with much the same air as he had seen about the other women of the pueblo.

Teresa informed him that Victoria had not come down this morning. So Don Alejandro boldly went up the stairs and knocked on her door.

"Go away!"

"Victoria, it is Alejandro. I need to speak with you. Please."

A few seconds later, the door eased open and Victoria stood there with tears in her eyes. "Don Alejandro, I'm sorry. I ..."

"I need to speak to you!" he repeated with an urgency she couldn't deny.

"Very well. Come in."

Once the door was closed, she all but fell into his arms. "Oh, Don Alejandro! What am I going to do!"

"There, there, Victoria, he isn't dead. I know that he isn't dead."

"You do?" She sniffed.

"Yes, and I suspect that you do too." He kept his voice low, almost a whisper. "The time for honesty is now. What do you know about this "death scene" at Don Sebastian's? Just whose idea was it?"

She ignored his question. "Where is he? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's sleeping soundly in his own bedroom right now. Without the mask. I suspect he will feel much better physically when he wakes up. He obviously overdid it yesterday. Scorpion stings are a little more serious than most people think. He's going to be feeling the effects for the next week or two, if my own past experiences with them are a judge. But emotionally... where is he? What's happened between the two of you?"

"It was my idea. I went to Don Sebastian and asked him to do this. I thought..." She choked on the words.

"And my son did not appreciate your doing this. I can imagine! Well, I think he will come to accept it, in time. But the problem of how to get you two together still remains."

"Oh, Don Alejandro, I don't think he wants me anymore! You didn't see the look on his face. I've lost him!"

"No, my child, you have not lost him. I've seen him pine after you ever since he returned from Madrid. It will take more than this to change his feelings for you. No, he's just reacted to a loss. And Zorro was lost when the alcalde died. I know my son well. He has not worked through that yet. I doubt he will even pick up a sword for a very long time."

"But what if the pueblo needs him?"

"If a true need ever arises, then a legend can always appear out of shadows."

She smiled at the wonder of the idea.

"But truly, times are changing. De Soto knew what was coming and I think that's why he became so …well, so …"

"Evil!"

Don Alejandro smiled. "No, 'desperate' might be a better word. But he's gone. I, for one, am going to do everything in my power to see to it that the new alcalde will be someone good for Los Angeles. If I have to go to Madrid myself, I now feel like our voices will be heard." He gave her a big smile and then said seriously, "Now our problem is just how you're going to let this pueblo know that you will marry my son!"

"Then you do approve!"

"Goodness, my child, yes. Now, with Zorro's death, we're going to see just how good at play acting you are. I think the memorial service will be just the spot for the first transference of your 'love' over to Diego. You will need to be comforted. He has broad shoulders. Do you see the picture?"

"Yes... but do you really think he will —"

"I know he will. But you and he will have to be careful. I should say in three or four months, six at the most, this pueblo will begin to wonder why you and my son never married years ago."

"But Don Alejandro, aren't we... I mean, shouldn't we be discussing this with him instead of planning it all ourselves. Deciding on going to Don Sebastian without telling him was what he got so angry —"

"Perhaps, but hasn't he been doing a lot of deciding about all of our lives these past few years without consulting us? Serves him right to get back some of his own!"

Alejandro entered the bedroom, and threw back the curtains, letting the bright afternoon sunlight spill across the bedcovers. "Time to face a new day, my boy! Rise and shine!" he said a little too loudly just to be sure he pierced through the veil of slumber.

Diego answered with a few grunting noises and reached a hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. With a start, he knew something was wrong. His mask was gone!

His father continued his cheerful tirade. "So! How are you doing this morning? That potion of Maria's certainly forces one into health-restoring sleep, doesn't it?"

Diego's eyes darted quickly about the room. He was in his own bedroom! In his own nightshirt! What had happened while he had slept?

"You've been out for a night and half a day now." Alejandro smiled, but Diego's face reflected the total confusion he felt. While his father spoke, he was trying desperately to make sense of the situation. The last thing he remembered, he had been dressed as Zorro in the bedroom down the hall...

"I've had some experience with scorpions in my time. Once when you were a just a baby, one of the servants lost a child because of one. A little girl of only four years died in just a few hours." Alejandro's face clouded at the memory. "Diego, I lost a son I did not even know once. I never want to know the pain that losing you would bring." He looked solemnly at his son with eyes that threatened to spill over with tears.

"Father, you —"

"No, Diego. Don't even start with the explanations or excuses or whatever your quick mind is devising. Today is a time for truth. And here it is. You are a free man. You're in love with a beautiful girl. You have a father that is not getting any younger and he wants grandchildren before he dies!"

"Father, what are—"

But Alejandro went on as he paced about the room, "When you went to rescue Victoria, why didn't you take those ruffians on? I've seen Zorro overcome greater odds than you faced that night!"

"You knew!" Diego gulped as he digested the information.

"But you chose a rather passive approach for the ultimate 'man of action,' didn't you. Now, why do you think you did that? Fear? Hardly! The only person you've ever been afraid of is Victoria!" Alejandro laughed. "Inability? No, that's never been a problem for El Zorro!" Alejandro gave a flourish with his hand as if he were wielding a sword. "No, you chose to do it that way because an accident has robbed you of some of your confidence. How effective do you think Zorro will be without his sword? Hmm? And just how confident will you be to draw that sword when the vision of an impaled De Soto will flash across your mind every time you do?"

The truth of his father's words stung. The subject was uncomfortable. "How long have you known?"

"Quite a while. I first suspected when I saw you fight Gilberto. After that, well, I just started paying more attention to a lot of little things. I haven't figured it all out yet. You still have some explaining yet to do. There has to be a secret passageway I'm unaware of somewhere in the library..."

"In the fireplace," Diego admitted sheepishly.

"Ah! I knew it! The way you'd disappear so suddenly and then reappear when I had just... well, I've thought that I was losing my mind on more than one occasion, I can tell you. And Felipe? Somewhere along the line, he's recovered his hearing, hasn't he?"

Diego nodded.

"Can he speak as well?"

"He is able to, but he won't. We have worked on it. But I am not sure he will ever use speech normally. I almost feel it is a punishment he has placed on himself."

"Must run in the family." Alejandro clapped his hands together. "Well, I want you to get up and dressed. You'll take it easy today, and I have Dr. Hernandez coming out later this afternoon to look at that hand."

He shushed the protests Diego tried to make. "No, it'll make me feel better. And I do want him to see if you're up to going to the memorial service tonight."

"Memorial service? So they're finally going to have one for De Soto?" Diego asked.

"Maybe the good doctor should look at your head too! No, the memorial service is for Zorro. He's dead, or hadn't you heard? I've already played cupid for you. Victoria will be there, beautifully crying for her dead hero. And you, the dashing, handsome, available young caballero will be close by to offer your condolences and dry her tears." He smiled broadly at the shocked look on his son's face. "You know, I think I may try my hand at writing a novel. I think I may have a flair for it!"

Diego laughed.

"That's more like it! This isn't the end of the world. It's just a transitional period. And frankly, I think California is going through one too. I just received word from a friend in Mexico City that Spain is having more trouble in their war strategies than we thought. Now, get dressed. I'd like to discuss it with you. Maria will have 'breakfast' waiting for you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The memorial service for Zorro was difficult for Diego. He played his part well. Victoria shed a few tears on his shoulder and he finally felt free to show his real feeling for her in public. Several heads nodded toward him, as if to spur him on in his possible courtship of Zorro's lovely lady.

But the worst part was listening to all the anecdotal accounts various people gave of their interactions with the masked bandit. Most were entirely fictitious. He knew. He was there, or rather, he wasn't. The exploits of Zorro had truly, in the space of a few days, grown to such fantastic proportions, it was certain that Zorro had already achieved the status of a legend.

The opinions of his death were varied. Some believed Don Sebastian's story. Zorro had entered a burning stable and had never come out again. All that remained of him was the cape and the mask he had shed before entering the building.

But others believed that he had escaped. After all, he always had before, hadn't he?

Still more believed that he had merely moved on to fight injustice in a different place.

The death of the alcalde had released the pueblo from the fist of a tyrant. Rumors were running rampant that Spain was losing Alta California to Mexico. Hope was high that the new local government would be a fairer one, regardless of which country ruled it. And if it weren't, then Zorro would return. A hero such as he would not let death stop him!

A candlelit procession of mourners filed out to the cemetery just outside the pueblo. An impressive headstone was adorned with a simple "Z" carved in an elegant script. Padre Benitez gave an eloquent eulogy. Hymns were sung. But, for all the sadness and tears, there was hope in the eyes of the people.

"Victoria, I don't want you to be alone tonight. You will come and stay with us for awhile. I won't have it any other way." Don Alejandro spoke loudly enough for those around to hear. He wanted to make it clear that the young tavern owner was being drawn into his family. The fact that Diego had a firm embrace around her shoulders and had for most of the night was noted by all. The two young people had been absorbed with their roles and each other, but Alejandro had carefully watched the crowd for reactions. Yes, in a few months, a wedding would not be out of order.

After arriving back at the hacienda, Alejandro ordered that a bottle of Madeira be brought to the library.

"Well, we've had a sad evening. But I refuse to let Zorro not be remembered without celebration as well. A toast to his life and his deeds!"

The three drank the toast solemnly. All three were well aware that servants were probably listening, and they used the time to further their long-range plan.

But some time later, when the household was asleep, Diego tapped on Victoria's door. She opened it fully dressed, for she had known he would come.

"I wanted to really talk to you. I have had enough play-acting for one night." He reached for her and, in an instant, she was in his arms. "That's more like it," he whispered.

"I missed you too." She spoke softly into his chest. "Are you still mad at me?"

He let out a faint chuckle. "No, but from now on, will you let me make the decisions?"

The End


End file.
